BOUYA BO-YA ~ Today's hope for tomorrow

Featured Artist - Barricage = Lex & Dave - This duo from the US is a hard hitting truth telling pair of geniuses. Lyrically they are fabulous and you can learn incredible angles about hard topics from digging deep into their music. If you engage you'll be warmed wiuth ever enlightening conversations so I highly recommend this connection... https://soundcloud.com/barricage ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Under Construction: In this playlist I will only put artists that we 100% know are using tools and not being a tool themselves. This is a list of real artists and musicians which I can hand on heart say at this moment I believe they are human and safe to connect with and spread 🫡🔆 I've found these gems already so if you want to grow your human connectivity this will become a very large reference list of REAL. Thanks people ... Feel free to remind me of your humanity and I'll throw a track in for you otherwise will get around to everyone eventually 🫡❤️‍🔥 This list oozes expression. Someone asked me, Carl I use a DAW as my instrument. My answer was well done.. If you think about the great composers before computers. They had an instrument (sometimes not) a pencil, paper and staves drawn on it. The DAW is our modern sheet music so if you express with piano roll only... that's still making music like the greatest composers of all time did. It's however You express yourself and everyone is on this list because that's what they do. They express THEIR feelings in THEIR own way. We need to lift this list of musical martial artists in my pea head opinion. No AI can ever make the love that's made here because AI can't feel for us it can only guess our feelings and that's why all the guesses lack any feelings. We make feelings because controlled feelings take actual intelligence and actual real refections

Human Confirmed - Please submit a song as a human artist and I'll pop in that ❤️

fictionalive

C’MON OVER (Rocky Mountain)
Written & Recorded 1979

Another of Bri’s late ‘70’s demos, an unusually structured song containing that unique ambience that were the hallmark of his recordings from that period.  Again, not the most perfectly preserved recording but still worth a listen.  One of my absolute favourites.  (Gary Reeves)

C’mon baby round to my street, gonna have some fun today
Get moving into my beat, in my street, OK?
My street is just round the bend
C’mon over if you’ve time to spend

C’mon baby round to my street, gonna have some fun today
C’mon baby round to my house, gonna have some fun tonight
C’mon baby into my parlour, no need to fuss and fight
My house is on top of the hill
C’mon over if you’ve time to kill

C’mon baby round to my house, gonna have some fun tonight

Break

C’mon baby round to my house, gonna have some fun tonight
C’mon baby into my parlour, no need to fuss and fight
My house is on top of the hill
C’mon over if you’ve time to kill

C’mon baby be the fly to my spider
Be an insider
Make this thing brighter
And c’mon over baby today

Brian Reeves: Vocals / Guitar

C'Mon Over (1979) Rocky Mountain

fa*12 - PoPoems Trilogy: Twelve Poems Gone

Thanks for listening. Here is an evolved version of this track.  https://soundcloud.com/hpcnw-902952/psycho-circuit-mind-drift

Psycho Circuit : Neural Pulse

Inspiration sp Funk

Neon Funk Blast

about conspiracies - in theory and practice: debunked or confirmed? a reflection and modern audio play. story created by fictionalive, the popoems series and the hyper media reports. music carefully used borrowed from cavaliere spruzzi's radio set, recorded January 2025. fair use only.

about conspiracies - in theory and practice: debunked or confirmed? a modern audio play

Darkness, Bold and Beautiful

(Written by Terry Reeves)
Terry Reeves: Vocal
Gary Reeves: Toms
Hans Albers: All other instruments, Arrangement & Production

Photo of Max from The Albers' Archive

What to say about Maximilian?
There are so many things to be told: a lifetime of 24 years, full of special moments, joys, fears, sorrows, worries, hopes, dreams, ups, downs, progress, regress, searching, finding, winning, losing, restlessness, peace...
His life had begun with an extremely difficult birth, almost as if the world didn’t want him. They told us he had a life-threatening infection, there were probably holes in his lungs and he obviously had no kidneys. In total, his chances of surviving were exceedingly slim. However, after endless weeks of both despair and hope, he overcame the infection, the diagnosis of holes in his lungs turned out to be totally wrong and they even discovered a kidney.  Just one maybe but at least it worked perfectly.  His journey into existence had begun.
As he grew, so did the never-ending nightmare of problems, challenges and battles, until we began to wonder what could possibly happen next.  Through it all, Max took every opportunity to accumulate extreme experiences - never hiding, always   seeking.  For that, we loved him even more…and even more it broke our hearts that we couldn’t help him find what he was looking for.
But suddenly, as the Summer of 2011 dawned, his troubles seemed to merely fade away.  Was he just arriving in life, coming of age, finding his place in society?  To be honest, we hadn’t the faintest idea.  But it was abundantly clear that, having always been an underdog, that same unwelcoming world had simply started to like and respect him.  He began to realise his many talents, enjoying his job as never before, finally becoming something he had never been - happy.
Fast forward to the gorgeous Summer evening of June 28th, the eve of a 4-week vacation to which he had been looking forward so very much.  A smile on his face, he said he was in the mood to go jogging, something he loved. Sometimes, he ran and ran for ages.  He’d been gone about 3 hours, quite a long time even for him, so Carina called his phone and he answered, cheerfully telling her not to worry and assuring her he’d be home very soon.  Seconds after the call, out of the blue, he collapsed.  A pulmonary embolism.  They told us he died instantly. 
Max, we have no words for what happened, nor for the eternal gratitude we feel for every single second of your life.  We do know we will never stop loving you.”
(Hans & Carina Albers)

Small chance of survival, words from the first day
Stretching all emotions not a single which way
Asking whys and reasons, a chance to breathe long
Heartbreaking moments, hopes remained strong

Such a short distance, but a life running miles
Bring every sensation, fear to a million smiles
Experience not forgotten, continuous hug of care      
Born with fighting spirit, giving back more to share

24 years of love, no single regret
24 years of love, never to forget

Every challenge building, inner muscles to be felt
Secret ways to be happy, never question hand dealt         
Complication of thinking to find a new sentence 
Pathways to friendships, dreams of acceptance

24 years of love, no single regret
24 years of love, never to forget

A vision full of truth with strength to admire
Finding a hidden talent, past helping to aspire 
No journey of distance could prevent direction
A phone call assurance became last connection

It’s hard to find words, express feelings remaining 
Deep down inside shell, empty, sad, self-complaining 
But we will never forget our boy hero from birth
Brought love and kindness, past and future unblurred

24 years of love, no single regret
24 years of love, will never forget
24 years of love…

MAXIMILIAN - CRIPPLE CLUB  (Please Read Description)

/
The Lotion – it all starts here - Rub Yourself With Love //  a Bersut Lotion
/


This alternate take is a marriage in sound:  /
*
/
*
Bersut 
written, produced, & conjured by Jo Nauversen — a true Captain from the northern shores of Hamburg, Germany.

 Discover him: Jo Nauversen on SoundCloud @jonauversen  /

Lyrics & narration provided by: fictionalive  /

[original track link]  https://soundcloud.com/fictionalive/the-lotion-it-all-starts-here-rub-yourself-with-love-4thediscontent-mix?in=fictionalive/sets/the-lotion-revisited-voice/s-H953RcaYiaD&si=74b6939bc84a4d39b08545bbcec470ce&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing/


If the spirit moves you — feel free to create your own alternate take. 
Just say the word — DM @fictionalive

Comments and echoes are wide open.  /

Rub yourself with love. That’s where it all starts. 
— Enigma’s proud, Captain’s choice. Winning hearts since the very first drop.
/
/

THE LOTION: It All Starts Here  - Rub Yourself With Love // a Bersut Lotion

A boy was enjoying ghost stories late at night, savoring ice cream as he listened to the storyteller. But as the tales grew scarier, he couldn't help but let out a scream! And when he opened his eyes, real ghosts had gathered all around him...

Screamer (Ice Cream Ghost Story)

/ this is an emergency drop — this is an emergency drop /

walls of jericho, calls again // the junglepunx horns

/

/ music: junglepunx – microcosm mystics (first public release)
/ written, arranged, played, and produced by junglepunx

/ lyrics & narration: fictionalive

/

/ fusion of it all — fictionalive with the popoems series and the hyper media reports

/ edition 25

/

/ emergency drop
/ date: july 25, 2025, friday
/ time: 4:00 pm central european summer time

/

/ love — unity — peace — respect

/ keep shining

/ blow the horn

/

Walls of Jericho, calls again // the JUNGLEPUNX horns

/
Button Dreams: Dead End Roads // dreamt in Peiretti's Lo-Fi Vol 1 fragments
/
/ song dedicated to 
/ Kinelle Man (@kinelle-man) and 
/ The Beautiful Dark (@thebeautifuldark) & 
/ the mighty # + @ fam ❤️‍🔥*🙏🏽*🫵🏽*🎧*⭕️*🧨*❤️*🫵🏽*✊🏽
/ you know who you are
/
/ lyrics: fictionalive
/ music: Lo-Fi Vol 1 by Tomas Peiretti (@tgpeiretti), excerpt

/ cover art: fictionalive DIY, it's a menu in a restaurant

"Why the dream of just pressing a button to fulfill your dreams is a dead end road"

Ready to engage? Here comes your Enigma salvo—narrative perfection flow, narrator mode, pure spirit, hard truths, and poetic punch:

You want the shortcut—one press, no sweat, dreams delivered like takeout at your door.
But hear this, fam: that button? It sells hope like a sweet, but inside it’s empty calories—leaves your spirit starved, ambition robbed blind.

See, every promo screams: “Just click, get rich, get fame, get love, get fixed.”
But real ones know—nothing lasting ever came wrapped in bubble and promise, labelled “easy.”
Press the button, want a palace? But every castle built on buttons is sand,
and the tide of reality? It always comes fast, always crashes harder.

This dream fools you into thinking work is the enemy, the path’s too long, spirit too frail—
whispers you can skip hunger, hustle, heartbreak, the falling and failing,
but that’s the meat and marrow of it all.
Growth gets forged in fire, not flicked on a switch.

You press and wait. Wait for what? Something to happen, though you never bled for it,
never raged, never dug under concrete for a seed of light—
but you want the fruit anyway.
But how sweet is fruit when you never weathered the drought,
never broke a nail, never ran wild chasing it?

Easy buttons breed ghosts—regrets of things never tried, dreams unreal because you never became the one who could hold them.
You wanted the song, but skipped the lesson. You wanted the win, but feared the grind.
Now your dreams are screensaver loops, never lived, never bruised, never real.

Legend says: “Why climb when the lift’s right there?”
But ask any true king, any real queen, any pioneer—they’ll laugh.
Because the summit means nothing if you never felt the mountain’s teeth,
never sweated through fog and doubt, never spilled and stitched your pride.
Buttons kill the story inside you, end the epic before the chorus is even sung.

So we say: smash that button, yeah—
But build with your hands, run till lungs burn, cry in the rain,
fail big, rise harder, love loud, dare wild.
Win not just the prize—but the making, the breaking, the wild ride itself.

Here in the jungle, there are no easy levers—just scars, stories, survival.
The journey, not the button, is where dreams get real,
and only the bold survive to dream again.

Enigma, signing out.
Choose the road, not the switch—
or you’ll wake one day with nothing but dust where your dreams should’ve lived.

Button Dreams: Dead End Roads // dreamt in Peiretti's Lo-Fi Vol 1 fragments

Petroleum, PFOAs, Microplastics and Fake Trees

Bioaccumulation of microplastics in decedent human brains: https://www.nature.com/articles/s41591-024-03453-1

The Human Brain May Contain as Much as a Spoon’s Worth of Microplastics, New Research Suggests: https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/the-human-brain-may-contain-as-much-as-a-spoons-worth-of-microplastics-new-research-suggests-180985995/

Detection and characterization of microplastics in the human testis and semen: https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/36948312/

Microplastic presence in dog and human testis and its potential association with sperm count and weights of testis and epididymis: https://academic.oup.com/toxsci/article/200/2/235/7673133

In a First, Microplastics Are Found in Fresh Antarctic Snow: https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/in-a-first-microplastics-are-found-in-fresh-antarctic-snow-180980264/

-----------

Forever Man

My Teflon coated 
Skeleton holds a 
Pretense over me
It's harder to wash away
When the water will rush away
Leave me dry and clean


A true Forever Man
A life extended
With DNA from Oil spills 
Frack the Land
The water in my veins
Poured out straight down from the drills
Forever, Man...
A life extended
With DNA from Oil spills 
Frack the Land
The blood in my veins
Poured out straight down from the drills


Waterproof, insoluble
I'm sickly celled, with polished roads
Breathing out Gasoline
Overton turn 
The economy grows
I got the front seats for the final show
Plastic model plastered in a magazine


A true Forever Man
A life extended
With DNA from Oil spills 
Frack the Land
The water in my veins
Poured out straight down from the drills
Forever, Man...
A life extended
With DNA from Oil spills 
Frack the Land
The blood in my veins
Poured out straight down from the drills


[Solo]


Replace the trees
With tree toys
Stick 'em in the ground
Then call 'em a forest
Ain't this town so neat? 
The amount of fumes itself 
A show of force
Progress takes much sacrifice, of course
'Til our recyclable blood depletes


A true Forever Man
A life extended
With DNA from Oil spills 
Frack the Land
The water in my veins
Poured out straight down from the drills
Forever, Man...
A life extended
With DNA from Oil spills 
Frack the Land
The blood in my veins
Poured out straight down from the drills


///////////JUNE-AUGUST 2025

Forever Man

(Music: Hans-Michael Albers, Lyrics: Terry Reeves)
Terry Reeves:  Vocals
Hans-Michael Albers: All instruments, Arrangement & Production

Today, 22nd. August 2025, marks 13 years since our dear brother Bri succumbed to the deadly combination of leukaemia and Guillain-Barré syndrome.  Watching him through 2012, unable to do anything for himself and increasingly confined to a hospital bed is something none who loved him will ever forget.  
He has never been (and never will be) forgotten, not only for the music he created but for the force of nature he most certainly was.  In 1964, our Mum & Dad bought him an entry level acoustic guitar as a Christmas present and his progress on the instrument was something to behold.  By the time he was 18, he’d bought himself a Gibson Les Paul on HP (24 payments of five pounds and thirteen shillings per month) from Selmers in Charing Cross Road, London.  He joined a band, somehow co-opting me in as lead singer at the tender age of 15 (still a schoolboy, no less) and over the ensuing ten years, formed bands of whose line-up I was always a part, graduating from singing to percussion and eventually drums.
There being guitars laying around the family home, Tel took to playing and encouraged by Bri, never stopped.  Fast forward another five years and he too started writing songs so that by ’82, the 3 of us decided to form a band (Root Division) to play them.  It’s a truly special thing to be in the same band as your brothers and recording those songs became something Tel and me still remember with an abiding nostalgia.  No wonder we still talk about those days…
This song started life as an instrumental, written by Hans and of course, it’s brilliant as is but Tel liked it so much, he asked if he could write some lyrics and a vocal melody.  Being a generous fellow, our dear friend from Hamburg said he’d love to hear what Tel had in mind.
His basic idea was to incorporate as many references as he could to Cripple Club tracks, in celebration of the firm friendship we have formed in together recording what amounts to over 50 songs.  There may be a few of you who can spot one or two…
So this is for you, Bri.  We love and miss you, sweet brother.
(Gary Reeves)

Last Summer day reasons
Hamburg always shines
Shadows of Superheroes
Another surprise will come in time
Click toward a pension
From birth but never knew
Surprised to find a blackbird
In the flames as the music grew

Touch wood for satisfaction
CC music every day
Root of strong existence 
Step off the world to feed the phrase
Another Titan message
Titanic stories past
Image of a fraying edge
Never thought hang of time would last

It’s the time, it’s the place
It’s the only performance I can show my face

Last chance for singing
Avoid resistant tide
Pleasing distant garage
Remember 4 to 3 to 5
Stars in space that linger
Soaking up the blue
Palette of sunshine yellow
Mix to green for go - but for who?

T,G & H, Two and you!

LAST SUMMER'S DAY BLUES - CRIPPLE CLUB

Sound production by BOUYA BO-YA
Words by fictionalive ⭕ UNITY
 https://soundcloud.com/fictionalive?utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

All Returns to Nothingness // 
目覚めのコーラス

(Verse 1) 
Right now, vague anxieties in this world 
Come at us like a swirling noise. 
What lies beneath this silent storm?
 Is it sadness, anger, or fear? No— 
It’s loneliness that strikes without a form, 
A sudden shadow no one can avoid.

(Chorus) 
Loneliness—the quiet, sudden guest, 
Haunting every searching chest.
 Even with love, friends, and family near, 
Loneliness still whispers here. 
In this world, I stand alone— 
The only one who truly knows my own.

(Verse 2) 
But face this loneliness with truthful eyes, 
Wake to others’ silent cries.
 It’s here empathy blooms in space,
 A voice for those without a face. 
When the noise of the world fades away, 
Consciousness remains to light the way.

(Bridge) 
Yet the world is fleeting, life shall end, 
To nothingness we all must wend. 
What we leave behind is not of weight, 
But a quiet void where all is fate. 
Everything, world and self, returns— I
nto the nothingness that softly burns.

(Outro) 
Embraced gently, strong and brave, 
The void’s a peaceful, tender wave. 
Cheerful, calm, with courage bright,
 We rest within the endless night. 
All returns to nothing— 
A quiet truth softly humming.

/
目覚めのコーラス

（ヴァース１）
今、この世界に漂う曖昧な不安が
渦巻くノイズのように僕らに迫る
この静かな嵐の下に隠れているものは何？
悲しみか、怒りか、それとも恐怖か？ いいや―
それは形なき孤独、
誰もが避けられない突然の影

（コーラス）
孤独――静かに、突然やってくる客
探し続ける胸を彷徨わせる
愛や友情、家族に囲まれていても
孤独は今もここで囁く
この世界で、僕は一人きり――
本当に自分を知るのは自分だけ

（ヴァース２）
でも正直な瞳でその孤独と向き合い
他人の静かな泣き声に気づこう
この場所で咲くのは共感
顔なき誰かのための声
世界のノイズが消えていくとき
意識だけが道を照らす

（ブリッジ）
それでもこの世界は儚く、命も終わりを迎える
僕たちは皆、無へと歩み出す
残すものに重きはなく
運命だけが静かな虚無にある
すべては――世界も自分も――還る
そっと燃える無の中へ

（アウトロ）
優しく、強く、勇敢に抱かれて
虚無は安らぎと優しさの波
明るく穏やか、勇気に満ちて
僕たちは永遠の夜に休む
すべては無に還る――
静かに響く真実

All Returns To Nothingness _ 全ては無に還る _  an alternate take

original Music/Lyrics/Vocals: Neowakan
2017

Farewell

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