Name: it feels like i’m sinking by Chad Nathan
Duration: 4 min 47 s
Description: “it feels like i’m sinking” is an ambient track by Chad Nathan

270 — Piano

MISSED OPPORTUNITY

Bach's well-known composition with an extra beat to every bar, then a touch of detuning, delay and reverb added. The source is a 1928 recording by the Rosé Quartet downloaded from the Internet Archive.

More on the 694th weekly Disquiet Junto project, 5/4ify — The Assignment: Add a beat to a pre-existing piece of music — at https://disquiet.com/0694/

Airy on the G String (disquiet0694)

1021 — Piano — OEP — Petals - 3

Today would be the birthday of a good friend who died from alcohol and a very bad man.

see you in heaven, my dear friend

Part of the Naviar Records Haiku-Challenge:

https://www.naviarrecords.com/naviarhaiku604-in-spring-sunlight/

the rows of tea bushes-naviarhaiku604

“it feels like i’m sinking” is an ambient track by Chad Nathan

it feels like i’m sinking

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DNntOqxN1fi/?igsh=OWJ1M2hqZ3ozNW5j

MARTIAN WASTELAND
The Martian winds whispered across the empty plains, carrying dust like ash from an old fire. When SPACECAT landed, he knew immediately—something here was wrong. His whiskers tingled, his tail flicked. Mars wasn’t just silent. It was watching.

Shapes appeared through the red haze. Astronauts. But their suits were torn, their visors cracked—inside, nothing but pale light, shifting like smoke. They walked with jerking, unnatural steps, boots leaving no trace in the dust.

Ghosts.

The stories were true. The lost crews of Mars missions, trapped between life and death, now wandering the wasteland.

One lifted its helmet, revealing a hollow void that hissed his name:
“Sssspaaacecaaat…”

SPACECAT didn’t flinch. He’d faced worse. Probably.

Then came the sound—metal grinding against rock. A rover rolled into view, but it was twisted, warped by something beyond engineering. Its headlights burned white like empty eyes. Chains rattled as it tore across the soil, hunting.

The ghosts pointed, and the rover roared forward.

SPACECAT sprinted, claws flashing on stone, his jetpack coughing weak sparks. The rover chased close, its mechanical arm snapping inches from his tail. The ghosts drifted after, whispering in unison:

“Stay. With. Us.”

He leapt into the shadows of a crater—and there, waiting, was Zorgo. Oil on his claws, sparks in the dust, he grinned his lizard grin.
“Fixed it. Just in time. The MARS RIDER is yours.”

The machine stood ready: sleek black hull, neon veins pulsing, engines glowing like fire in the dark. It looked alive. It looked hungry.

SPACECAT dove into the cockpit. The rover crested the ridge above, screeching, its jaws widening—

FWOOOSH!

The MARS RIDER launched like a lightning strike, neon trails tearing across the wasteland. The rover gave chase, but the Rider cut sharper, faster, burning over ridges and craters. With a final burst, SPACECAT flipped a switch marked with a claw-scratch: Overdrive.

Engines screamed. The Rider leapt a canyon, fire spilling behind. The rover couldn’t follow. It fell, crashing into the abyss, its death-screech swallowed by the Martian dark.

Silence returned. But not peace.

The ghosts still stood on the plain, far behind now—hundreds of them. Their glowing visors turned, following the Rider’s path. They raised their hands in eerie unison.

SPACECAT narrowed his eyes, tail lashing as he sped into the horizon.
“They’re not gone,” he muttered. “And next time… they’ll come for me.”

The Martian night swallowed the MARS RIDER, leaving only dust and whispers in the wasteland.

Martian Wasteland

Songs From The Wounded Heart
Release Date: 01-01-2015
© 2015 Keith Richie

Songs From The Wounded Heart is a deeply personal anthology—an emotional tapestry woven from sorrow, memory, and quiet resilience.

Spanning more than a decade of composition, this collection features both new works and reimagined, re-mastered selections from my earlier catalog. Now presented in high-resolution 24-bit audio, each piece has been carefully preserved and enhanced to reflect its original emotional weight with greater clarity and depth.

From the mournful ambience of Harrowing Emptiness to the delicate piano-led reflection of Jake's Theme, and the poignant stillness of Weeping Angels and Candles, each track serves as a sonic elegy—an outlet for grief, healing, and remembrance.

This album is not merely music. It is a refuge for the wounded. A balm for those navigating loss. And a quiet reminder that there is beauty even in brokenness.

🎧 Listen on your favorite platform:
🔗 owtt.lnk.to/sftwhBC

Yellow Roses

fabeye

WeMissedYouWhereHaveYouBeen?

Chad Nathan is a multidisciplinary artist from just outside Walterboro, South Carolina, known for his deeply emotional work across music, poetry, and social media. He pioneered a genre called “Underwater Dreamwave.” Acoustic-based, ambient-leaning music drowned in rain, static, and memory, where vocals are often buried beneath the mix. His work feels like overhearing something through a wall or underwater.

Raised as an only child, Chad was a quiet observer in a loud world. He began freestyling as a kid, later shifting into lo-fi beatmaking, photography, and poetry. Often writing in silence during work hours at his job.

Chad’s art centers around stillness, honesty, and reflection. He creates to feel, not to impress. “Start with my writing,” he says. “Thats the realest version of me.”

Quick Facts:

Full Name: Chad Avery Nathan

Born: December 31, 2001

Hometown: Walterboro, South Carolina

Genre: Underwater Dreamwave

Label: GOD IS THE GREATEST ARTIST

it feels like i’m sinking

Chad Nathan

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