Want Me Girl is a song about a healthy attachment even though the relationship has dissolved.

Want Me Girl

Don't talk
Don't talk
Don't talk
Don't talk
Don't talk
It's pathologic

Don't think
Don't think
Don't think
Don't think
Don't think
It's pathologic

The written word is the path to logic
It's pathologic
The path to logic
The written word is the path to logic
It's pathologic

I'm artificial
You're artificial
It's artificial but we think that it's real
And I'm a fake
But you're a phony
It's all fake but we think that it's real
I'm superficial
You're superficial
It's official we're super real
It's pathologic
Our path to logic
The path to logic's pathologically real

We pierced the veil
We took the knowledge
We made a deal with the queen of the dead
Our Ignorance is now begotten
We broke our deal with the queen of the damned and now we're gone

The time it takes
The time it took
The time ya make you can't make anymore
Now it's cannon
It fits the lore
The path to logic lies dead on the floor

We pierced the veil
We took the knowledge
We made a deal with the queen of the dead
What we know is now forsaken
We broke our deal with the queen of the damned and now we're gone

Now I got the carbrain
Gonna drive in the fast lane
Join the race
Join the suiciety
Cause I like the way you lie to me
Oh, hit the highway
Feel the roadrage
We made a deal with the queen of the dead
We pierced the veil
We took the knowledge
We broke our deal with the queen and now we're damned

Freedumb

Pathologic

Bandcamp

relaxed instrumental blending guitar and synth

@play ... in Cmin

Original composition….Alejandro Gonzalez M.

Last Christmas

By your side

Return to the breadth of scaffolding v0.01

Never Know

black feelings

Sunday morning tester tuc tuc is coming out soon I promise :)

Free Download

My heart will Go on (Nicole Chen remix) Future Rave (Mastered)

We Have Nothing To Lose

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).

"Moments of being passable beyond novelty"

"Actually slaps"

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.

Return to the breadth of scaffolding v0.01

blorgpulkfplorksickle