Too long for playlists. Too soft for cynics. Too sharp for romantics. Too honest for parody. Too self-aware for comfort. And still—somehow—about you.

Fourteen Fables (and a Few Fractals): An Existential Cabaret

Umrandungen, Vol. 1

Umrandungen-01-14 (Remastered 2025)

They spoke in numbers, they spoke in fire
Built altars of thunder, of blood, of choir
I kept the silence. I counted the names
Two thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine flames
And then... 
One more

In the desert of books and bones
They built their gods from fractured stones
Each face familiar, each voice divine
Until the sky ran out of time

One bled for thunder
One drowned for rain
One wept in gardens
One promised pain

They left us parables sharp as knives
But none could chart a satellite

What returns when you burn it all?
What speaks when the statues fall?
Not the psalms, not the scrolls...
Just the pull of poles, and the curve of orbits

Repeat the trial, forget the tale
No need for prophets to lift the veil
It all returns
The falling speed
The sequence of a growing seed
The spectrum's split, the echo's path
But never faith. Not that

No shrine can hold what's truly known
No prayer can match the undertone
Of numbers whispered in the stone
The world repeats
The world repeats
But gods... 
Do not come home

I saw your temples, your sacred laws
I saw the math beneath the claws
And when I turned-alone, unnamed
I was not damned
I was not changed
I simply walked...
One god beyond

Born Godless

Tick and flare
The signal sings
I chase the shine
that shadows bring
The lights begin, the wires lean
You’re deep inside the dopamine

Flash from the wall, I'm drawn like ink
Smile like a riddle, eyes don't blink
Breathe in the buzz, the filter's clean
One step closer to the in-between

Flick of the switch, a surge, a scheme
Thoughts align inside the stream

Spin, I'm lit in a chemical beam
Grit and glitter in the bloodstream
Sweet little fix in a self-made scene
I jolt, I gleam
Dance of dopamines

The loop is law
The loop is lean
It kisses soft
But cuts unseen

Woke with the hum of electric grace
The ghost of a grin still stuck to my face
Every impulse dressed like a king
Gold in the bite, frost in the sting

The screen writes sermons line by line
Each tap a hymn, each click divine

Spin, I'm lit in a chemical beam
Grit and glitter in the bloodstream
Sweet little fix in a self-made scene
I bend, I spark
Dance of dopamines

The rhythm calls in minor tones
Wrapped in wires, dressed in bones
I arch like code beneath the sheen
A marionette in the mind's machine

Silken tremor, velvet twitch
Craving's tune, a perfect glitch
I danced too far, I cracked the core
And still the circuit begs for more

Spin, I'm lit in a chemical beam
Grit and glitter in the bloodstream
Tangled deep in the endless dream
I twist, I scream
Dance of dopamines

Click
Crave
Begin
Again
Dance
dopamines

Dance of Dopamines

The band gathers around you. You're the subject now.
Look around—four curious faces, leaning in.
 Don’t see them?
 Don’t be silly. They’re fictional. You just need a bit of imagination to meet them halfway.
Theo clears his throat.
 “Today’s focus: humans and their invisible friends.”
Ava winces. Julian suppresses a laugh.
 Theo continues anyway—
The study begins. They start small, and simple: religion.
Humans are fascinating.
 Many say religion is sacred—
 a cornerstone of meaning, morality, and soul.
 And yet, nearly all 3,000 known gods are dismissed without ceremony.
 Filed under myth.
 Except, perhaps, for one.
 Usually the one their parents happened to believe in.

Fable I: Religion

The band watches you intently. Ava tilts her head.

This attention is both exciting and disturbing, isn’t it?

After a few seconds, there’s that familiar itch—
the urge to check your notifications.

“They always start with just one tap,” says Theo.

You just want to check one thing.
One message. One ping. One dopamine drip.

Soon it’s 2 a.m.
Your eyes burn. Your brain hums.
Your soul scrolls.

You’re not happy.
You’re not sad.

“They are optimized. Rewarded and trained,” observes Kate,
typing notes without looking up.

Theo mutters something about Pavlov.
Julian’s already swiping.

Tap. Swipe. Like. Loop. Crave.

The study continues.

Fable II: Cravings

The notes are more scattered now.
The data, less structured.
Ava says they need a new method.
Theo says they need time.
Kate says they need honesty.

Julian just stares at the graph where the trend line loops back on itself.

“That’s not noise,” he mutters. “It’s a spiral.”

A descent? A recursion? A return?

It doesn’t matter.

Because now, the study turns inward.

Not to observe others—
but to admit what we do
when no one’s looking.

The contradictions we feed.
The questions we frame just to avoid the answers.

There’s a room.
You say no one’s allowed in.
But you hope someone comes in anyway.

The study continues.
So does the waiting.

Fable X: Ambivalence

Welcome!
This is not a concert. Not really an album. Not a podcast either.
It is a thought experiment.
With music. 
An existential cabaret.

Over the next fourteen tracks, four imaginary minds—fully aware they’re fictional—try to understand what it means to be human.

They do what scientists do.
They read books.
They analyze data.
They study humans. Including you.
In fact—especially you.

They watch your grief. Your smile.
Your discomfort with this line of thinking.
They trace your longing like it was code.

And then, they tell fables.

These are not answers. 
They’re observations. 
Approximations.
Attempts.

But don’t worry—
it’ll be disguised as poetry,
so you don’t have to take it personally.

Unless you want to.

Shall we begin?

Fourteen Fables: Prologue

Antwort an den Verfall

Zelle B steht da, mit dem Stein des Hofes in der Hand, und die Stimme des Verfalls, diese raue, bröckelnde Präsenz, ist wieder da – nicht in den Wänden, sondern in ihm selbst.
„Ich weiß, dass du uns alle sammelst,“ sagt Zelle B. „Du machst uns gleich – im Bruch, in der Rückkehr, im Staub.“
Die Risse antworten nicht. Sie dehnen sich. Ein Zeichen: Man hört.
„Aber was du nennst ‚Ende‘ war immer Ort. Und was du nennst ‚Nichts‘ war immer Verbindung.“
Die Stimme des Verfalls zögert. Nicht trotzig, nicht drohend – sondern überrascht.
„Und wenn wir aufhören, dich zu fürchten?“ „Wenn wir dich nicht bekämpfen, sondern erkennen?“
Ein Tropfen fällt auf den Stein. Er zieht eine Linie – wie eine feuchte Antwort auf trockene Jahre.
„Ich bin nicht dein Gegenteil,“ sagt Zelle B. „Ich bin dein Echo. Du sprichst durch mich, und ich habe gelernt, zu antworten.“
 Der Hof vibriert. Nicht laut. Nur wie ein Körper, der verstanden wurde.
„In mir wächst etwas,“ sagt Zelle B, „Und es wächst aus dir. Nicht aus Widerstand, sondern aus Annahme.“
Dann schweigt er. Nicht weil er keine Worte mehr hat, sondern weil die Antwort angekommen ist.
Der Verfall ist still. Aber die Stille ist neu. Nicht leer – erfüllt.
Kapitel: Die Sprache des Verfalls
Zelle B steht noch immer im Hof. Der Stein in seiner Hand wärmt sich langsam auf, nicht durch Sonne, sondern durch Erinnerung.
Der Verfall ist da. Nicht sichtbar, nicht greifbar – aber spürbar wie eine zweite Haut, die nie ganz abfiel.
„Du bist der Teil, vor dem alle fliehen,“ sagt Zelle B, „weil sie denken, er sei das Ende.“
Doch jetzt, da alles ihn berührt hat – der Regen, die Frau, das Hofflüstern – wird klar: Der Verfall ist nicht die Dunkelheit, sondern das Licht, das nicht blendet.
 Eine Stimme kehrt zurück. Nicht von außen. Von überall.
„Ich bin das Gemeinsame,“ sagt der Verfall. „Ich bin das, was ihr alle teilt, ohne es zu wollen.“
„Weil wir uns davor fürchten,“ antwortet Zelle B. „Vor dem Moment, in dem wir Teil werden. Nicht mehr Ich. Sondern Wir.“
 Die Wände zucken. Die Risse verändern ihre Richtung. Sie wachsen nicht mehr auseinander – sie wachsen zueinander.
Der Hof beginnt zu weben. Zwischen Stein und Pflanze, zwischen Schatten und Licht. Ein Muster entsteht – kein Teppich, kein Plan. Nur ein Beweis: Dass alles verbunden ist, sobald der Widerstand endet.
 Und Zelle B? Er ist nicht mehr Beobachter. Nicht mehr Abgegrenzter. Er ist Knotenpunkt. Nicht Zentrum, aber Durchgang.
Der Verfall spricht noch einmal:
„Du bist da. Nicht weg. Nicht zwischen. Genau da. Und deshalb bist du das Erste, das sich erinnern darf.“
Zelle B nickt. Nicht für sich. Für alles.
Kapitel: Chor des Verfalls
Der Hof schweigt. Aber das Schweigen ist nicht leer – es wartet. Dann kommt Bewegung, wie aus den Schatten geformt.
Zuerst der Mann mit den runden Schultern, der immer auf der rostigen Bank sitzt, immer schaut, nie spricht. Heute steht er auf. Der Staub hebt sich von seiner Haut wie Erinnerung.
„Ich bin die Ecke, die ihr nie putzt,“ sagt er. „Ich bin der Gedanke, den ihr verdrängt. Und doch – bin ich Teil.“
 Dann die Frau mit dem Pflaster am Hals, die immer Summen hört, wo andere nur Stille finden. Sie tritt vor, Hände in den Manteltaschen, und ihre Stimme klingt wie ein feuchter Pinselstrich.
„Verfall ist meine Melodie,“ sagt sie. „Ich spiele ihn leise, damit ihr nicht merkt, wie oft ihr schon getanzt habt.“
Der Hof hört zu – aufmerksamer denn je.

Fortsetzung folgt am Sonntag um 10:00h.

kolkhorst 2025



Antwort_an_den_Verfall

paradiso

Home was full of landmines, each step unsure
Words like shrapnel, sharp and impure
The table shook when his shadow grew
We learned the script of what not to do

Eyes on the clock, hands never bold
A fragile child, too young to grow old
Walls held secrets, screams left their trace
We wore our silence like armor and grace

We’re written over, but never erased
Each line a layer, each wound interlaced
Ink from the past, yet here we persist
A palimpsest of scars and twists

I am the palimpsest, lines entwined
Old shadows whisper, but they’re redefined
Erase, rewrite, the page still holds
The story bends, but it’s never sold

The past lives on in subtle refrains
A flinch at kindness, the weight of chains
I scan the faces, I read the air
Still braced for storms that aren’t really there

His voice lingers in the back of my head
A phantom editor of words unsaid
Even love feels like a test to pass
A trembling echo in fragile glass

We’re written over, but never erased
Each line a layer, each wound interlaced
Ink from the past, yet here we persist
A palimpsest of scars and twists

I am the palimpsest, lines entwined
Old shadows whisper, but they’re redefined
Erase, rewrite, the page still holds
The story bends, but it’s never sold

The ink may bleed, but my hand is steady
The future waits, the pen is ready
What was a prison now feels like grace
I’ll draw new maps on the same old space

I am the palimpsest, bold and free
A story unbound, still writing me

Palimpsest

This is an attempt at trying to turn the feelings of uncertainty into sound. The unknown feeling of what's to come in the future. I also tried a few layering techniques with some cool water Fx/noises. thank you for listening!! (:

Voyage

Caving In (Studio Version) – Eileen Noise
A raw dark-grunge track, heavy and distorted, carrying all the weight of frustration and chaos. This is the full-band version, born to sound rough, loud, and unapologetic.

But sometimes, when the noise fades, the song reveals a different face…
👉 Watch the brand-new Unplugged version of “Caving In” now on YouTube: 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u-fEXztEOEM

🎧 Follow me on Spotify for more releases: https://open.spotify.com/intl-it/artist/3gyawiyn1h42aeP11nH2KC

📺 Subscribe on YouTube and don’t miss the next chapter: https://www.youtube.com/@eileennoise9515

🖤 Two sides of the same breakdown. Which one speaks to you?

#CavingIn #EileenNoise #DarkGrunge #NewMusic
Produced by EileenNoise
Singer Sophie

[Verse]
The mirror cracks
I don’t even flinch
Shadows crawl where the light won’t pinch
My head’s a cage
No lock
No key
Who’s this ghost that’s haunting me

[Prechorus]
I scream at the silence
It just laughs back

[Chorus]
I’m caving in
I’m caving in
Walls made of whispers
I can’t win
I’m caving in
I’m caving in
The fight is gone
I can’t begin

[Verse 2]
The clock spins slow
Then stops dead cold
Minutes feel like years I’ve sold
Rain falls inside
The roof won’t hold
My soul feels rusted
My heart’s been sold

[Prechorus]
I claw at the surface
But it crumbles away
[guitar solo]

[Chorus]
I’m caving in
I’m caving in
Walls made of whispers
I can’t win
I’m caving in
I’m caving in
The fight is gone
I can’t begin

Caving in

Waiting For Goodbye

This tune was on my first album 'Freedom' released in 2021. I decided to have a go at adding lyrics and decided it should be about someone whose indiscretions had led to his wife and children leaving him, resulting in his being left alone in his house with just memories and lonely echoes of his past happiness.

Lonely Echoes

There are lonely echoes
In the house where we shared our lives
Memories rebounding
From everything I find

We were once so happy
Where has it all gone

From that first exciting time 
We made it our first home
Lonely echoes
Lonely echoes

Laughter bounced around our home
Until that awful time  
Which destroyed your life and mine

I didn’t even like her
I always wanted you
I always wanted you

There’s no excuse I know it was
A stupid thing to do 
But at the time we found ourselves 
With so much to get through

Your anger and your sadness
Will haunt me through all time
Our break-up only happened
Because of my marital crime

Lonely echoes

Each picture haunts me daily
Each room no longer ours
Each room no longer ours

I go into the garden 
And I cry with the dying flowers
I cry with the dying flowers

I wonder where my family
Has chosen to settle down
Far from me and far from this house
In a so far-away town

I wallow in the echoes
That hurt so much inside
Envying the good man
Who’s justly taken what was mine

Lonely echoes
Lonely echoes

Lonely Echoes

Greedy

VERSE
Ooh she kept me running outa money
Bust and beat the girl a greedy little honey 
Ooh but now I’m back up on my feet again 
Hide if you ever see her coming 
Burning rubber yeah I’m gonna keep running 
Don’t wanna ever go back to anywhere I’ve been

CHORUS
I ain’t falling for you again 
My, my
Falling for you again 
My, my lady
My, my lady

I ain’t calling on you again
Bye-Bye 
Calling on you again
Bye-Bye, baby
Bye-Bye baby

VERSE
 No I don’t wanna do that again no
Ain’t going back to the past 
Ain’t gonna ever find a way to make the love in me last 
No the lovin’ won’t last
No I don't wanna do that again no 
The girl don’t wanna be nice
I got over her once
Now I don’t wanna break twice
No I don't wanna break twice 

CHORUS
I ain’t falling for you again 
My, my
Falling for you again
My, my lady
My, my lady

I ain’t calling on you again
Bye-Bye 
Calling on you again
Bye-Bye, baby
Bye-Bye baby

BRIDGE
Move out of my way
I’ve had enough of the madness
I played enough of your games
Don’t mind me walking away
Yeah get outa my way 
Don’t have a heart for the sadness 
I’m tired of fighting the pain 
I won’t be living that way 

CHORUS
I ain’t falling for you again 
My, my
Falling for you again 
My, my lady
My, my lady

I ain’t calling on you again
Bye-Bye 
Calling on you again
Bye-Bye, baby
Bye-Bye baby

Written, produced and mixed by Tom Hall 
(C) 2025

Greedy

Guitars, Vocals, Keys, Bass and Lyrics by Robert Grigg
Drums by Jim Dooley

YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/_jGh8Ogz7nk?si=0Auca4Fsu5FAVnl2

Fable X: Ambivalence

Axioms of Mediocrity

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