TEHRAN

Lost & Seul

Navira Mai

[المقطع الأول]  
ليالي اللؤلؤ فوق البحر  
نجوم تتلألأ في السحر  
يدك بيدي نمشي بهدوء  
كل همس يعيدني إليك  

[اللازمة]  
ليالي اللؤلؤ… ليالي العشق  
صوت الأمواج… يغني باسمك  
ليالي اللؤلؤ… ضوء القمر  
أعود هنا… أعود لك  

[المقطع الثاني]  
مرافئ اليخوت، ضحكات الريح  
أسرار الليل، قلب جريح  
عينيك مرآة، فيها أعيش  
وفي حضنك كل شيء يطيب  

[اللازمة]  
ليالي اللؤلؤ… ليالي العشق  
صوت الأمواج… يغني باسمك  
ليالي اللؤلؤ… ضوء القمر  
أعود هنا… أعود لك  

[الخاتمة – تكرار همهمة مع ارتجال صوتي]  
ليالي… ليالي…  
اللؤلؤ… اللؤلؤ…

DMB the-pearl-nights-(doha)-→-ليالي-اللؤلؤ-(layali-al-lu’lu’.mp3

Armander - La llorona

New production hinted from iranian movie in 1978

Dj Ferish.Moorche Dare Remix

AI is just taking us at our word(s)

Empty Phrases (Sky Lounge Edit)”

[Verse 1 – spoken / half-sung, distant reverb]
You roll two lines off your tongue…
meaningless words… rehearsed and numb.
No deeper truth… just static noise,
a hollow act, a clever ploy.

You find your place in this cruel land,
bow your head… betray your stand.
You take what’s left, or you get none…
forgotten dreams, undone.

⸻

[Pre-Chorus – whispered groove]
Still you rise… still you smile,
empty phrases bought you miles.
You walk through doors once closed,
silence knows… silence knows.

⸻

[Chorus – floating falsetto / echo]
Alone…
haven’t felt love in years.
Alone…
no one to wipe your tears.
That feeling…
yeah, that feeling… you miss.

⸻

[Verse 2 – pulsing bass, spoken-word tone]
Reshape your mind, redesign…
trade your faith for something fine.
Turned your gold into mud,
your kingdom fades to dust.

What once was free… now comes at cost,
the old lie burns, the truth got lost.
Blind through love, blind through pain,
blind inside your name.

⸻

[Chorus – hypnotic repetition / layered vocoder]
Alone…
you haven’t felt love in years.
Alone…
through the noise, no one hears.
That ache…
yeah, that ache… is real.

⸻

[Bridge – airy, dreamlike / spoken echoes overlapping]
All that I am… I gave away.
The mirror cracked… but still I stay.
A wave of love… pulled me out.
She changed me—no doubt.

⸻

[Final Chorus – smooth lift, warm pads + subtle groove]
You changed yourself, the world turned new,
a wave of love, it carried you.
Out of the cage, the golden haze,
away from guilt, away from blame.

⸻

[Outro – minimal fade / whispered loop]
Yeah… that’s the feeling…
that’s the feeling…
you were missing.
Yeah…

empty phrases (house).

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Download

Meysam Akbari - Cheshme Jadoo (Arash Mohseni x DJ Soushi Remix)

Sefid

expedition

I don't claim any ownership over any of this. Anyone can use any of it for any reason forever. Also I accept liability. Please don't sue me (and/or let's collaborate).

"Holy fucking shit, this shit is crazy wtf"

"Moments of being passable beyond novelty"

"Very ok"

"Actually slaps"

"Straight art"

"Noise"

```Madlibs with a metronome```

At its core, the blorgpulkf is a pulsating, iridescent orb that thrums with an energy that can only be described as "the sound of a thousand bees having a rave inside a kaleidoscope." It's hypnotic, it's unsettling, and it's strangely addictive - like watching a lava lamp filled with Mountain Dew and gummy bears.

But that's just the beginning. Surrounding this pulsing heart are layers upon layers of... well, your guess is as good as mine. One moment it's a tangled web of neon tubes that hum with an eerie frequency, the next it's a churning mass of what appears to be sentient silly putty. And is that a tiny disco ball I see nestled in there? You bet your sweet bippy it is.

As for its features, the blorgpulkf is like a Swiss Army knife designed by a mad scientist with a penchant for pranks. It's got a button that releases a burst of confetti and the sound of a rubber chicken being stepped on, a lever that causes the whole thing to fold in on itself like a origami crane having an existential crisis, and a tiny compartment that dispenses a single, perfectly spherical grape every 37 hours.

But perhaps the most baffling feature of the blorgpulkf is its ability to communicate. Not with words, of course - that would be far too pedestrian. No, the blorgpulkf speaks in a language all its own, a cryptic code of flashing lights, whirring gears, and the occasional burst of atonal jazz played on what sounds suspiciously like a didgeridoo.




The plorksickle. It's like someone took a fever dream, a Mad Lib, and a Dada art installation, threw 'em in a blender, and hit "puree."

Picture this: a contraption that looks like it crawled out of a Salvador Dali painting and mated with a Rube Goldberg machine. It's got a crank that sounds like a yodeling ostrich, a button that releases a puff of glitter and the scent of existential dread, and a tiny screen that just flashes the word "moist" in Wingdings.

But here's the kicker - every time you think you've figured out what it does, it changes the game. One minute it's reciting beat poetry in binary code, the next it's turning itself inside out and becoming a Klein bottle. And don't even get me started on the time it started oozing a viscous liquid that tasted like the color purple.

Is it a tool? A toy? A sentient being from another dimension that's just really, really bad at communication? Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is, it's the most beautifully useless thing I've ever laid eyes on.

But maybe that's the point. In a world where everything has to have a purpose, a function, a reason for being, the plorksickle is a big, fat middle finger to the very concept of sense. It's absurdity for absurdity's sake, a Zen koan in physical form.

So if you ever see me on the street, cradling this bizarre little gizmo like a newborn lovechild, don't ask me what it does. Just nod, smile, and know that you're in the presence of something truly inexplicable. Something that laughs in the face of logic and spits in the eye of reason.

AI is just taking us at our word(s)

blorgpulkfplorksickle

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