This poem was born from the vertigo that lingers after absence, especially when it follows fire. I wrote each verse as one might try to speak to silence—not to shatter it completely, but to find in its cracks some resonance. The memory of love, when it has been real, becomes an invisible presence: it keeps speaking to us in dreams, in the wind, in the echo of a kiss that still burns. This is an unsent letter, a whisper that descends like a dagger—not to wound, but to touch.
— Gabriel Ganiarov


You will feel
that the magic
was not a dream
because loneliness
is a storm.

My footsteps
will follow you
with the breeze
because every kiss
in our bonfire was real.

You will seek
silence from crying
for the lost past and destiny
in the blow of terror.

I sleep and dream
to find you again.

They are daggers
that descend
from my mouth to your silence...
until they break it.


Tu sentiras
que la magie
n'était pas un rêve
car la solitude
est une tempête.

Mes pas
te suivront
avec la brise
car chaque baiser
dans notre feu de joie était réel.

Tu chercheras
le silence des pleurs
pour le passé perdu et le destin
dans le souffle de la terreur.

Je dors et je rêve
pour te retrouver.

Ce sont des poignards
qui descendent
de ma bouche vers ton silence...
jusqu'à ce qu'ils le brisent.

Sentirás
que la magia
no fue un sueño
porque la soledad
es una tormenta.

Mis pasos
te seguirán
con la brisa
porque cada beso
en nuestra hoguera fue real.

Buscarás
el silencio del llanto
por el pasado perdido y el destino
en el soplo del terror.

Duermo y sueño
para encontrarte de nuevo.

Son dagas
que descienden
desde mi boca a tu silencio...
hasta romperlo.

Sentirai
che la magia
non era un sogno
perché la solitudine
è una tempesta.

I miei passi
ti seguiranno
con la brezza
perché ogni bacio
nel nostro falò era reale.

Cercherai
il silenzio dal pianto
per il passato perduto e il destino
nel soffio del terrore.

Dormo e sogno
di ritrovarti.

Sono pugnali
che scendono
dalla mia bocca al tuo silenzio...
finché non lo spezzano.

Gabriel Ganiarov
Copyrigth: 2018

You will feel

No Laptop. Only Sound and a DJ. Thats DENON DJ

Deep in the jungle (minimal melody, more rythm)

Lyrics:
https://genius.com/Keagan-hoffman-crimson-divorce-lyrics

Crimson Divorce (prod. Eurt Apatea)

Lyrics:
https://genius.com/Keagan-hoffman-cigrattes-and-whiskies-lyrics

Cigrattes & Whiskies (prod. Eurt Apatea)

Juju Finaz  ~ T+O+X+I+C

Megaman (prod. 1keddo & acemarcel777)

elected as MP

Bigrikkib X skynet collab garage vs dubstep volume 7 produced by s.k.y.n.e.t, The finest garage and dubstep in the dj mix by bigrikkib and skynet and produced by s.k.y.n.e.t, All comments and opinions appreciated and welcomed enjoy the ride .Big up all gargae and dubstep crews artists and record labels in this set and big shout out and thank you to bigrikkib 

garage vs dubstep bigrikkib X skynet

We might blast off

Description (short): A calm, soulful reggae journey that flows like water—quiet strength, warm harmonies, and patient light guiding every song.Description: A single arc of light bridges two cliffs, a quiet halo for steadfast love and patient change.Description: A harbor clock floats at dawn; soft ripples mark time—shelter, rhythm, and return.

Want me to lock one in and add the exact front/back/spine text layout with your tracklist and © line?

“Letters in the Foam

I Don’t Talk Alot

Gabriel Ganiarov
My work is born where language collapses and the tremor takes root. I write poems: I summon resonances. I am neither a producer nor a beatmaker: I am a poet who has learned to breathe with machines, to dance with code, to translate electricity into memory.

This sonic space I inhabit is the extension of my writing. Every song you hear here was conceived from the pulse of a poem—not one that aspires to formal perfection, but to the crack, the fold, the lingering echo of a soul that refuses to be silenced.

I call this gesture synaptic poetry: a lyrical architecture woven from unexpected connections—between word and algorithm, between emotion and machine, between exile and belonging. The melodies that accompany me here were designed with artificial intelligence, but it is my voice that activates them, my story that embodies them, my resistance that gives them meaning. There is no artifice without soul.

I am part of a displaced, fragmented generation—but not a silenced one. I come from the analog age and have evolved into the digital. That is why my aesthetic answers to what I call the Poetics of the Margin: not a lesser aesthetic, but an ethical stance. I write from the edges of the cultural map and from the fissures of the industry; I sing from the diaspora, not as a victim, but as a witness, as an exile of noise and a cartographer of whisper.

Here, on this profile, converge verses sung in more than one language, rhythms that have crossed sonic borders, and wounds that, when they dance, become bridges. Listening to these songs is opening the door to a lyrical continent where nostalgia merges with the digital pulse, and intimacy becomes expansive.

Welcome to this musical frontier where poems pulse and scars sing.
Here there is center, there is root.
Here there is homeland, there is voice.
Here, you can hear the rain falling—and also create from the beat, let the glitch run free, and endow poetry with binary code, in tune with the times we live in…

Poet,Author,Composer,Songwriter. Proudly born in Venezuela, living in Perú
kata ton daimona eiatoy
Follower of the Ligth