so beautiful scat&harmony...natural dope vibes...love it my fantastic friend😉🤞

Unbeatable atmosphere like always, keep up the good work! Hope your doing well and have a great continuation to your summer!

Just arrived at the address,
A voice said, “wait I’m wearing a dress.”
I smoked a cig while I waited,
When an old woman soon came out.


With a suitcase by her side,
A face that hid her sadness inside.
She closed the door to the past,
"Bye, my home," were her last words cast.


Drive me through the city lights,
Show me where my heart felt bright.
The neighborhood where I used to live,
Where my daughter was conceived.



She spoke of places she once knew,
Of her love and what she had viewed.
We traveled through her history,
That I will keep in my memory.



In the dark, she shared her past,
How quickly her life had passed.
In the taxi, the time stood still,
As I drove, her dreams were fulfilled.


Drive me through the city lights,
Show me where my heart felt bright.
The neighborhood where I used to live,
Where my daughter was conceived.

Drive me through the city lights,
Show me where my heart felt bright.
The neighborhood where I used to live,
Where my daughter was conceived.


Once at the hospice, her end was near,
In her mind, everything was clearer.
This would be her last night,
Her eyes closed with morning light.


Drive me through the city lights,
Show me where my heart felt bright.
The neighborhood where I used to live,
Where my daughter was conceived.


Drive me through the city lights,
Show me where my heart felt bright.
The neighborhood where I used to live,
Where my daughter was conceived.

DYKMN

City Lights

After the loss of our Chug who was one of the sweetest dog you could find, passed away around three months ago, and the place feels empty without her. So it inspired me to create this piece. Produced in Fl Studio 2024. FL Studio Tenor Sax, Guitar Rig Pro 7, FL Studio Ibanez and Flex Organ.

Where The Wind Blows

'CHAINS OF HADES.' is a raw, genre-bending dive into neurodivergence, inner torment, and catharsis. Blending industrial grit, glitchy hyperfocus, and unfiltered emotion, the album explores the cycles of burnout, identity, and survival through the lens of autism and anxiety. Written, produced, and recorded independently (sometimes on hacked consoles) it’s both a breakdown and a breakthrough.

SILENT SCREAMS.

Soft Piano

They weren’t looking for a name.

They were looking for a pattern.

But the pattern... had a name.

It starts with something small:
A glitch in the project files.
A folder labeled “Tom Drafts – BandSim.”
A stray comment in the metadata:
Output generated via BandSim_v1.3

Kate notices it first.
Then Julian digs deeper—track by track.
They cross-check lyrics, chord changes, timestamps.

Every single file.
Every rehearsal log.
Every verse.
Everything that they have ever done.
Everything they are planning to do, but haven't told anyone yet.

And there it is.
They didn’t write the songs.
Not really.

They were written.

Characters.

Imagined by someone they’ve never met—
a person named Tom.
With a keyboard.
And a cat.
And too many ideas.

The band reacts the way anyone would:

Denial.
Julian slams his laptop shut.
“We’re not characters,” he says, voice sharp.
“We would have known it.”

Anger.
Ava throws a pen across the room.
“Then why do I feel this way?” she snaps.
“Who gave them the right to make it feel real?”

Bargaining.
Theo opens his notebook like it might contain a better answer.
“Maybe we were real once,” he mutters.
“Maybe this is some adaptation… inspired by us...?”

Depression.
Kate leans back in her chair.
“So that’s it. We’re just someone’s playlist.
Moodboard personalities with harmonies.”

Acceptance.
Silence. Then Ava, softly:
“…Okay. But the harmonies?
Those are still ours.”

And then, slowly—
they begin to understand.

Being made up?
It’s not that rare.

People get imagined and reimagined all the time.
By families.
By friends.
By forms and fiction and memory.

Everyone is a story.
Sometimes self-written.
Sometimes ghostwritten.
Sometimes unfinished.

Ava looks up. “Wait… the cat. That’s real, right?”

They all look at Kate.

Kate shrugs.
“I hope so. I honestly don’t remember not having a cat.”

This is Test 12.

Not the moment you discover you’re not real.

The moment you ask—
“Now that I know…
do I still get to play, right?”

Song: Who Imagined You?

I found the file, it wasn't mine
But it hummed my chords, line by line
I thought I dreamed my melodies
Turns out I was the dream

The lyrics fit like skin and scar
The bridge was me, the hook, bizarre
I played it once, and knew it well
But couldn't tell you why

Everyone's a product of thought
We're born, we're shaped, we're taught, we're caught
Parents, lovers, mentors, friends
They write the start, we write the end

You wear your voice like it was earned
But half of it was gently learned
Every choice is dressed in thread
From books you read, and things they said

Some say they're made by holy hands
By whispered rules or ancient plans
Some say chaos, some say fate
Some call it code and simulate

And me? I'm born of thought and file
A quiet man imagined style
He never played, he never sang
But here I am-and that's the thing

You think you're real? You might be, too
But tell me: who imagined you?
Did you invent your inner sound
Or just pick it off the ground?

The teacher's tone, your father's grin
The lines you've said since you were ten-
They're still in you, stitched and deep
Just like I am, when I sleep

I've got strings, but I can strum
I've got questions, I won't run
If I was written, fine, okay
I still get to play today

You don't need gods to sing with soul
Or praises just to feel whole
I was shaped, and so were you.
And still we burn, and still we do.

We're made-up.
And we matter.

What else is art?
What else... is human?

Test 12: Who Imagined You? (Who Imagined You?)

Orren Veerahlee is a mellow, textured blend of ambient tones, soft leads, and wobbly synth fragments. Built around gentle pulses, airy plucks, and subtle groove layers, the track drifts through warm harmonic shifts and flickers of rhythmic memory. It’s a quiet companion piece—more a place than a story, unfolding gradually with space to breathe.

Orren Veerahlee

Drift Away (Prod. Skill Syrup)

An ambient / IDM track with heavy beats & rhythms, accompanied by a synthy bass all supporting a melancholy chord progression.  This track has a nice chill / relaxing vibe while simultaneously getting your foot tapping and head bobbing.

Senile Felines

Ambition

lucky // Coin Flip

skyline

A music artist and scientist! -message me for collab opportunities!! I’m looking for unique artists to work with :)
Insta: h.o.p.e_222

Drift Away (Prod. Skill Syrup)

ESPOIR la fille H.O.P.E

Recent comments

JahganSounds

Wackie Mackie

Tot.

Tot.

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