Deep Thoughts

sound of myself slowed

In My Restless Dreams I See That Town Silent Hill- Gigi Masin-Call Me (SLOWED & EXTENDED VERSION)

The Sound Of Myself - Disasterpeace (super slowed)

Maybe For You There's A Tomorrow

i do not own this track all credits to Flatsound

a dream - flatsound slowed and looped

medasin - magic (slowed)

retire final - alvedon - edit, inspired by spedup/sloweddown

Retire - Final (sadder)

dandelion hands - how to never stop being sad (slowed & reverb)

There’s a strange weight to the truth when it arrives too late—like hearing the echo of a song long after the music has ended. It lingers, but it no longer belongs to you. I think that’s how it feels when people slip away.

You can’t reach back. You can’t unlive the silence. People fade, and you are left holding only the outline of what they once meant to you.

There’s a cruelty in how memory works. The faces blur first, the sound of their voice grows fainter. Yet the ache stays sharp. Regret doesn't scream—it whispers, persistent and low, reminding you of the moments you let slip through your fingers.

The times you could have shown up, could have spoken, could have been something more than a spectator in your own life.

And the worst part? The world moves on. The streets stay loud, the days keep passing, and you are the only one still haunted by the ghosts of what was left undone.

what was left (winter letters 3.1)

too late to be sane

SPOTIFY: https://open.spotify.com/track/3vLRWVTKBT2nmMUSG3YjxK?si=4628b4a1b052418d
APPLE MUSIC: https://music.apple.com/us/album/it-hasnt-for-me-single/1829694936

LYRICS: But why? Why is it that we have to be so afraid of death? Are we only alive because we don't wanna die? Does something good ever come from living? Because there is nothing for me. And all of the days I've lived, nothing good has ever happened to me.

It Hasn't for Me

Teaching Feeling

In these uncertain, transversal times,
as I watch the ship slowly sink,
a quiet detachment from the sun prevails.

Trapped along this path,
I wander in thought—unraveling, reweaving—
wondering if the ship will rise again,
if it will ever float once more.

I take flight toward a crude beginning, ticketless,
with a destination made of all the things I miss.

In my small garden of flowers,
which at times consumes most of my days,
I trust that all those lost things will flourish anew.

For now, I water this moment,
hoping that what I tend
will carry me through this ship-bound flight.


Genis Remacha.

IL104

produced by Genis Remacha
mastered by Vlas Presnetsov
image by Immersive love

published by Immersive love

23 Aug 2025

It Hasn't for Me

IRON CRUSHER

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