**Description for "Shattered Identity – The Rant":**  
"Shattered Identity – The Rant" is a raw, unapologetic dive into my personal struggles, pulled straight from the pages of my diary. It’s an aggressive, emotional anthem about being misunderstood, judged, and tested by those who think they know me. This song is for anyone who’s ever felt misjudged, silenced, or had their feelings ignored. It’s an explosion of anger, frustration, and ultimately, self-liberation. I confront my demons, call out the fakes, and find my strength in the end. We may be shattered, but we’re still standing—together, we’re finally free.

Shattered Identity “The Rant”

One of the most haunting and psychologically intense tracks on the Regrets album, Puppeteer is a chilling self-confrontation—a deep dive into control, self-sabotage, and the realization that we are often our own worst enemy. The song presents the narrator as both the puppet and the master, acknowledging the choices, pain, and patterns that have led to repeated heartbreak and betrayal.

The intro opens with a moment of self-doubt: "Where did I go wrong? Where did it start?" But before the blame can be placed elsewhere, the truth emerges—it was always them pulling the strings. From the first verse, the song shifts into a dark, almost menacing realization: "It’s me, bitch, who else would it be?" The narrator admits they are the architect of their own suffering, orchestrating their own downfall, allowing toxic people in, and ignoring every red flag.

The verses take on a cold, commanding tone, painting a picture of someone who both sets the stage for their own destruction and then plays the victim when it all collapses. The repeated imagery of knives, doors, walls, and strings creates a sense of fate being predetermined, as if every bad decision has already been scripted and rehearsed. "I tell you stop, you run full speed. I tell you ‘no,’ but you fucking bleed."—the narrator acknowledges their reckless tendencies, fully aware of the consequences but seemingly unable to stop themselves.

The choruses reinforce the song’s theme of control, with eerie, almost theatrical phrasing:
"The stage is set, the lights are low, guess who’s runnin’ the fuckin’ show?"
This line serves as both a confession and a warning—the narrator controls everything, yet they still feel trapped.

As the song progresses, frustration turns into cold, calculated resolution. The bridge is where the narrator makes their final decision:
"You begged for love, but love’s a lie, a pretty trick to waste your time."
This is a full rejection of hope, compassion, and trust. The realization hits that letting people in only leads to pain, so the narrator decides to pull the strings tighter, closing themselves off entirely.

By the final chorus, the song reaches its most haunting and hypnotic moment. The strings are pulled so tight that movement is no longer possible—the narrator has locked themselves into a fate of control, but at the cost of emotional freedom. The outro fades into whispered, mocking tones:
"Sweet dreams, puppet."
With that final line, the song leaves listeners in a chilling silence—who is truly in control? Is the narrator finally safe, or have they simply imprisoned themselves in their own protection?

Puppeteer is a dark, introspective track that tackles self-sabotage, emotional walls, and the illusion of control. It fits into the Regrets album as a moment of raw realization—the understanding that the pain isn’t just from the outside world, but also from within. It’s a song about coming to terms with the role we play in our own suffering, and the terrifying decision to either break free or tighten the strings.

Puppeteer

Skull’s a padded cell, lined with panic
Each thought ricochets off the bone
Brain's swollen with static
But I’m trapped here, alone

The pressure builds behind my temples
Jaw tight, eyes twitch, neck sore
Every whisper turns violent
Then loops back louder than before

I blink but the images stay
Thoughts like fists that won’t decay
This isn’t noise, it’s a drill
Boring into me against my will

My thoughts have me in a chokehold I can’t tap out of
Tension winding tight from the inside up
Skull cracking from the fight I breathe
Trying to scream through locked teeth

Can’t think, can’t sleep, can’t make it stop
Headlocked in a pressure I can’t drop

Sinuses swell with rage
Forehead pulsing red
Every idea’s a jackhammer
Breaking peace inside my head

The crown of me’s gone sour
My cortex coils like wire
My brainstem’s burning hours
Fueling thoughts I can't retire

I chew on silence, grind it down
But even quiet starts to pound
Every nerve’s a fuse that’s lit
Inside this cranium I can’t quit

My thoughts have me in a chokehold I can’t tap out of
Each throb a verdict I’m unworthy of
Tension locked in my frontal lobe
Clenched so hard, I implode

Can’t breathe, can’t blink, can’t make it stop
Headlocked in a brain that forgot how to drop

There’s a war behind my forehead
A riot under skin
No one sees the bruising
But I’m breaking deep within

My temples count the seconds
In pulses loud and grim
If thoughts could leave bruises
My skull would cave in

My thoughts have me in a chokehold I can’t tap out of
Clawing through my brain like it's not enough
Nerves snapping like rubber bands
Cranium cracked by my own hands

Can’t breathe, can’t blink, can’t make it stop
Headlocked, and it’s all I’ve got

My mind is the cage
My skull is the lock
I built this pressure
Now I can’t make it stop

Headlocked

Starlight Remembered is a cinematic orchestral journey through memory, space, and solitude. 

It begins with soft, ethereal pads and distant drones, gradually layered with ambient synth textures, warm orchestral strings, and gentle brass swells.

The harmonic progression shifts naturally, creating a sense of emotional gravity without relying on rhythm — allowing the music to breathe and evolve. It builds to a wide, expressive climax before fading gently back into space, unresolved yet complete.

Produced with a cinematic mix: wide stereo image, lush midrange tones, and immersive sonic depth.

Starlight Remembered

“Why are you so quiet?”
Oh, fuck you.
You don’t even know what’s happening inside my head.
It’s a mess. A storm. A migraine that won’t stop.

I open my mouth, and you sigh,
Like I’m asking too much, like I’m weak inside.
Every thought is a puzzle, twisted and wrong,
Trying to make sense while the world moves on.
I beg for help, I reach for a hand,
And you push me down, like you’ll never understand.
You call it drama, call it attention,
I call it surviving, call it tension.
My brain’s on fire, spilling over slow,
You just tell me to be quiet and go.

I’m screaming, I’m bleeding,
I’m clawing for air.
And all you do is judge me,
Like you fucking care.

“Calm down,” they say,
Like my pain’s your entertainment today.
“Stop whining,” they lie,
Like my head isn’t collapsing inside.
“Relax,” they preach,
Like the migraine in my skull is your problem too.
I’m not fine, I’m not safe,
And no, you don’t get to tell me what to do.

My mind’s a hurricane, thoughts smashing together,
Nothing fits, nothing lasts, migraines forever.
I’ve swallowed nights, I’ve chewed on fear,
I’ve begged for help, but nobody’s near.
I’ve hidden screams in corners, under my bed,
While you sip your tea, tell me I’m fine instead.
You don’t know what it’s like to feel hollow and torn,
To scream in the silence and be fucking scorned.
You tell me to settle, tell me to “move on,”
I’ll rage louder, motherfucker, till you’re gone.

My head’s a war zone, no pause, no truce,
Thoughts slicing my skull like a razor-sharp noose.
Synapses snapping, migraine tapping, brain collapsing,
I spit this chaos at you, you just keep gasping.

You say “calm down,” I say fuck that, I’m wired,
Each syllable’s a spark from the fire you inspired.
I’m juggling storms in my chest, teeth gritted tight,
While you sip your tea and pretend it’s all right.

Your comfort is bullshit, your patience a lie,
You don’t know the nights I bled just to survive.
I twist words, flip scripts, spit venom precise,
Each rhyme a dagger carved from my sacrifice.

I’ve swallowed the dark, swallowed the screams,
Swallowed the migraine that rips at my dreams.
I’m wired, I’m tired, my thoughts don’t rest,
Fuck your “quiet down,” I’ll scream this chest.

Quiet…
Be quiet…
I’ll scream…
I’ll scream…
I’ll scream till my head splits…

“Calm down,” they say,
Like my pain’s your entertainment today.
“Stop whining,” they lie,
Like my head isn’t collapsing inside.
“Relax,” they preach,
Like the migraine in my skull is your problem too.
I’m not fine, I’m not safe,
And no, you don’t get to tell me what to do.

You don’t get to name my pain,
You don’t get to judge my brain.
You didn’t live the fire in me,
The migraine, the chaos, the storm in my head —
So keep your advice. Let me be.

“Calm down,” they say,
Like my pain’s your entertainment today.
“Stop whining,” they lie,
Like my head isn’t collapsing inside.
“Relax,” they preach,
Like the migraine in my skull is your problem too.
I’m not fine, I’m not safe,
And no, you don’t get to tell me what to do.

“Why are you so quiet?”
Because my head’s a mess,
Because my thoughts are bleeding,
Because every time I speak,
You tell me to calm down.

"Why Are You Quiet?"

Expressing Myself through, Lyrics and Music is my way of cooping in this world <3

Puppeteer

xTDCx

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