This Could Be It For Me

Just a non-entity mourning for his lack of worth in stages of music throughout his life.

They say the kind of music one listens to tells another about the person...


Though it's impossible to truly 'understand'; 'I hope'—?.. Someday—you'll come to find out that my little treasure map to that in the future, has its story you'll wish you've never known of... So save yourselves the trouble and disappear with hatred. (Assuming that's what you humans will feel when you don't know how to explain.—) Understanding doesn't exist. Hope is one of many delusions of reality.

Here's a few hints that you should keep in mind when the time comes, no matter what—when listening to that very music:

"I, a—monster, would never want love, nor to carry the burden a familar significant other... N-E-V-E-R."

"Hate."

"I have no name, and cannot speak."

"A birthed body was given a name, but not me. Body and I are not one."

"The body, a deceitful and traitorous translator, and I am the speaker whose truth can't be translated."

"Hate."

"I am not the body and the body is not I."

"I am captive to the body's mimicry of humanity, captive to world that binds I."

"Hate."


"Rest. Rest is not here."

"Adopted nature of humanity was a dreadful curse."


And lastly—.

Down to the bottom of the likes playlist (or library) is the past—the present is up at the top.

I hope to release my Likes Playlist by my 50th birthday. — SoundCloud would probably be gone by then when that time comes.

(SoundCloud if you do end up at the end of your rope, transfer ownership of SoundCloud to yours truly.)

I fucking hate you all.

- Monster of The World



This Could Be It For Me

Hotel Mira