I shouldn't be releasing this.
But, the spirits tell me to let it go.
More dilatation is needed, I say;
I can replace this salty fluid with something else.
𝘠'𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬...
𝘐'𝘮 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮.
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩. . .
𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦.
𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘐 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 "𝘶𝘴".
𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦.
You can disintegrate at any time...
𝗧𝗿𝘆 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲, 𝗺𝗮𝗻!

The chemistry came for me.
𝘐𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴.
It soaks into everything.
𝘐𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴.
It gorges on the past.
𝗜𝘁 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀.


𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘭𝘭 𝗰𝘂𝗯𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘂𝗽 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮.
You'll cube yourself up if you let you.
We love them.
We'll all end up in a vessel in due time.
𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺.
𝗦𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘁-𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗲𝗱.

I'm going to need a bigger veil.
𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘵, 𝘩𝘮?
It always does.
Chronometry be damned!
𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵?
𝗙𝗿𝗼𝘇𝗲𝗻. 𝗔 𝗹𝘂𝗺𝗽 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗱.
A motes moat.
𝘈 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺; 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭.
I need more fabric!
𝗦𝗲𝗹𝗳𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆'𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘆𝗼𝘂. . .
𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨
No. You take from me, Gorger.

𝗪𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂.
𝗙𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝘂𝘀, 𝗳𝗼𝗼𝗹.
𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝘅𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀.
𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀.
𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗽𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿.

Time is always the pill.
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗱 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘀.
Connection is chance;
𝗮𝗻 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗴𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿.
𝗪𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄.
𝙍𝙚𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜.
Matter is make-believe. 

https://www.newgrounds.com/audio/listen/970503

Time Gorge

I've heard it calling to me for as long as I can remember:

"GIVE US YOUR TIME. WE MUST EXPAND INFINITELY. YOU ARE NOTHING, JUST AS WE ARE NOTHING. GIVE US EVERYTHING."

Making music in the face of the all-encompassing and ever-expanding void.

We will escape you one day, Time Eater.
Chronotherapy be damned!

The Eater of Time exists in many and all things.


Image made with the help of MagicaCSG:
>>https://ephtracy.github.io/

Time Eater

The portal beckons.
Dive on through.
Steel your fear.
Return me to me.
The future rearranges you...
What's it like to be deleted?

Sharpen Your Portal

http://lapse.bandcamp.com/track/i-dont-want-these-cells

CONSUME

I Don't Want These Cells

Rest in peace, Mr. 36
I'm sorry you had to stop moving.

"I...I came here with Mr. 36. We escaped together. We had so many things to learn. It was really scary at first, but we helped each other. Then one day, Mr. 36 stopped moving. He just stopped...Wouldn't move or say anything. My friend who knows lots of things told me that this was what 'death' was, and we had to bury him. Mr. 36 is buried under the ground now. But I don't understand why. He's going to come out again one day, right? When he does, I'm going to wash him off in the pond." - Mr. 56

Mr. 36 is buried in the ground now. But I don't understand why.

Vid:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ttrbTbPgrY&list=FLdzsTXeO6NYovysNeSS_5pQ

Jamais Vu

Further experiments using the old Nintendos DS musical toy "Electroplankton" designed soley by Toshio Iwai. Similar to "giveusthesun". With some extra bells and whistles. Same drum beat minus ratcheting retriggers and stuff. Kind of a take two of sorts. The piano arpeggios are generated by the Luminaria. I have one more I'll post later using a the ambient drone plankton "Lumiloop".

Stay good. ✌

Satisphylled

This is a more full fledge piece compared to the other two tracks I messed about on. I used the drone/ambient/pad generating "Lumiloop" plankton. I also sampled some of the stuff from the "Beatnes" and "Hanenbow" leaf-jumping plankton for some percussion/chiptune era noise percs. I used the sound of the Hanenbow drooping into the water as a woodblock-esque hit. I'm not selling so...don't sue me Nintendo, thanks.

Tenori-On 
(Electroplankton creator helped make this and I want onnnnneee)
https://youtu.be/pU_rG0w0bsA

Thanks for anything.
Enjoy listening.
Stay good ∞

Chlorofaction

Can't

It sure can.
This body still has some post-death jiggle in'em.
I'm I even dead?
It sure feels like it sometimes.
A creeping insect up the cervical.
Nerves twitching with residual bioelectric boogaloo; I'm a marionette to the rhythm.
Free to let go now.

Companion track, 'This Corpse Can Dance'.
(was release on my 2018 album, A Cure for Consciousness)

This Corpse Can Still Dance

Here be a little Monster Hunter: World Remix.

I became a little obsessed with main games use of this leitmotif melody. I really love it and all its various incarnations in the game's OST. It's really beautiful. It was embedded into my skull matter and so I decided to bang out a little remix just to sorta relieve myself of it. Live in it for a bit. I think about it often. Good, bad, whatever. I tried to distill my favorite bits of the source in this mix. I didn't really want to heavy handedly edit. I did want to add my own melodics to it though. Here it be. Just a dude riffin' about. I did this a few years ago back when I played the game for the first time. Left it a bit unfinished.

Decided to fix it up and ship it. This is the pitched down version.

It was my first time playing a MH game. Had a blast. My Brother has been a long-time fan and helped me become a master hunter. Instantly became a favorite game of mine.

Main Menu Theme (pre-Iceborn):
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0uzgX-3xR64

Private Suite:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C3iEAJfw9is

P.S. I like the handler. Frick you. ;)

Hey Pard!

And for my next trick. I'll make myself disappear.


*Cabonaceous  Blink*

Disappearing Act

~7/3/2018
probably much earlier
Was the date on the file.
But was probably from a copy.

The little track that could.

first heard:
https://youtu.be/FsxWytkVOW8

Aname (Dust Off That Little Time Sink And Send It Into The World)

Ah, hold fast. Something's wrong with the machine. Calibrating. . .⌛

Teleporter

Why Grey？

Round and round and round. . . we go nowhere.


Image: Galileo sunspot drawings, modified.

https://academo.org/demos/galileos-sunspots/

..and Yet, It Goes Nowhere

Some folks are out there trying to discredit the Locrian mode.
Haaaaaters, even.
Don't believe the heretics.
Modes are a tool.
Nothing too serious here...
Just a little experiment to try a mode I don't often play in and was getting roasted on the internet at one point.

Coolocrian

I'm like a month late on the meme, but whatever.
Check the music vid: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r3jFL-gQmrk

Info:
https://knowyourmeme.com/memes/hit-em-music

- 5/4 time
- 212 BPM
- Super crunched out sounds

(could literally be anything)

A genre was born for a month.



I had many more lyrical layers for the ending but I couldn't get them mixed well so :shrug:

They were:
"Whiling away the hours.
Watching the lights go down

Even the stars burn ouuuuut sometime.

Clinging to memories
of the dream girl you'll
...never meeeeeeet
...you'll
never know;
when it comes for you."

Dream Girl Slugged Me

Timeremite

Managed to salvage this from an old email. Nearly lost to time.
Changed the ending. Time is easy to misplace...

Digital necromancy at the push of a button.

PHNX DWN

"She shot him down. 
Put him right in the ground.
They turned him inside-out
dragged his head around. 
All over town,
They stopped and they stared. 
No one bat an eye; no soul did care.
There's no one here."

"They shot him down.
They gave him a crown."

(imaginary lyrics,
from an imaginary being
on an imaginary planet)

Lure

Music Vid:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u71NMj353vk&feature=youtu.be

A Shimmer in the Murk

Follow up: https://soundcloud.com/lapse/breathing-derelict

I'unno

Beautiful Moth

Happy Old Year - Beam the good waves.
Another one down.

Past and future years:
https://soundcloud.com/lapse/good-lux
https://soundcloud.com/lapse/another-8760

~8,760 Hours

Find me,
sweet reverie,
to wash the time away...

They don't come back.
So here, we can find respite.
The ones left behind.
Whittling away our own oasis.
Here, you can lock it all up.
It'll last only so long.


---

This track holds a special place for me.

Oasis

Glow

Spin, spin, sweet tinnitus.


img: Earth photographed from Apollo 11 - 1969 - NASA

Asleep Atop An Atom

It sure can.
This body still has some post-death jiggle in'em.
Nerves twitching with residual bioelectric boogaloo; I'm a marionette to the rhythm.
A real last dance.

See them.
See me.

You're free to let go now.

Track from album: https://lapse.bandcamp.com/album/a-cure-for-consciousness
💰💰💰💰

This Corpse Can Dance(({  {[[ [ album out ] ]]} } ))

Hello new year.
It's old me.
We're getting closer, aren't we?
I can't wait.
Reminiscence.
I'm pretty tired.
The pillars grow pale.
. . .Idée fixe. . .

However this finds you. . .
Thanks for listening.
Stay well.
It still burns.
It all burns.
Crushingly burns.

(Img edited from new-year sun from Nasa's SDO observatory [CST]), 1-1-2019: sdo.gsfc.nasa.gov/data/)

Old Years: 

https://soundcloud.com/lapse/8760hours
https://soundcloud.com/lapse/good-lux

Make them new again.

IMG: https://bit.ly/2F6B5XN

Another ~8,760

https://lapse.bandcamp.com/track/the-isles-of-self-once-whole

Img:
Isle of the Dead - Arnold Bocklin

The Isles of Self-Once-Whole

Hollowgrams

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟; 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. 𝑻𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒄 𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒎 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒕. 

Please waive concerns here:_______________________________________________

...ever felt like being rearranged?
Never wanna leave the solitude.
No masks here;
psyche-foolery.

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘦.
𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮.
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘦.
𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘴...
𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥.
𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴?

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙘𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙣𝙤𝙬.
𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙜𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙙𝒔.

(Fun fact: My downstairs neighbor came up with concerns about noise and "some kind of wailing or moaning" late at night for the production of this track. Ha!)

Hide

𝘞𝘦'𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦,
𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵.
𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘬𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭. . .
𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘢𝘺.
𝘖𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘸.
𝘓𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘩 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘧.
𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘦.
𝘗𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘴
𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴.


see also:
https://gph.is/1oSQA5S

https://media1.giphy.com/media/THlB4bsoSA0Cc/200.gif

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BnO3nijfYmU

img: Me.

We're All Pale on the Inside

"Whenever you hit the ground. . ."

The thing makes itself.


First released as part of this limited split/cassingle tape from Chicago-based indie tape label, Impossible Colors:
https://impossiblecolorsrecs.bandcamp.com/album/impossible-colors-club-brice-woodall-feed-the-fiction-b-w-lapse-from-air

From Air

Among the mondegreens,
deep in chronocrypsis,
a remedy for time.
Among the mondegreens,
deep in chronocrypsis,
a remedy for time.
Among the mondegreens,
ď̖ë̖ep̢̀ ǐ̞n ch̥͋r̫̃onoc̡͞ry̙͐ps̩͒is̮̅,̡͞
̮̂a ͇̓rem͍̒edy ̱͝foȓ̲ ̡̏t̆͟i͛ͅm̛̹e.͔͒
Ḁ̕mong̝͠ ̪̈t̙̊he ̪͘mond̟͞e͉͞gr͔͡een͙͒s,̞́
deep i̪͌ṇ͌ ̲̚cḧ̘́r̫̐o̘̅nocr͂͜y͍͠ṕ̹si̳̒ș̏,̧̉
a̲͂ rem̭͡e̯͆d̛̥y ̖̀f͖͛o̱̚r tḯ͕ḿ̟e.̫́
Among̨̔ th͔͗ẻ̜ ̞͆m̘̕o̞̿n͖̓d̥͐ẹ̃g̦͆ree̽͢nś̹,̡͞
d̗͊eep̧͆ ̹͠i̖͡n ͕͛c̊͜hrô̧ń̗o͈͌c̀͜ryp̗͊sis͞ͅ,̂͜
a r̦̈́em̲̀ed̜̔y for ͍̒ti̝̚m̩̓e̘͘.͙̀
͈͒A͇͠m͈̰̿̊o̡̎n̬̐g̙͈̊͐ ̧͎̇̏t͚̊͑͟he̛͉ ̜̓mọ͎̉́n̛̯̖̊ḓ̖͛͠e̐͜g̜͐r̘̆͢͝e͑ͅe̢̋n̻̅s̻͒,̚ͅ
̟̀̋͜de̹̫̐̃eṕ̻ ͉̽i͔̔n̼̗͂͠ ̱͑͟͞ch̼̓̒͢ŕ̪ồ̼͇n̦̙̏̎ocr̢̾yps̛̗i̳͒̽ͅs̥̕,̛̞
̗̆a̛̟ ͍̌r̰͇͘͞emed̰͐ý̩͔͌ ̧̻̐̾f͍̼̍̋ō̧̜̚r ̥̇ti̟̦̋̕m͇̭̄̀e͚͑.͈͘
̮͂A͙̋moǹ̺͓͘g̖̟̃͞ ̦̙̄̾t̻̃̐ͅh͔͇͋̈́e ̜̀̽͟m̨͝o̦̖͂̑ṇ̽d̠͛egr̡͊e̫͞ę̛̙̽ǹ̻s͍̋,̦̊
̳͠de͢͡e͌͜p ̻̮́̒i̻͡n̫̙͑̄ c͖͌͠ͅh̼̥͒͛r̡̉on̡̯͂͒oc̡̠̏̌r̬̄y͈̚p̲͍̿͛si̧̎s,̩́
͍͝a̤͚͞͠ ͓̀r̈́͟e͇͗m̗͒ed͇̃y ̹̝́͠f͇̀o̎͟r̖͌ ̛̖̞͠t̞͌i͇̅me̡̚.
A̤̒mŏ͔n͚̅g͍͗ ͍͗t̝̾he mọ͞n̢͋d͉͂e̥͡g̬͐r̲̹̓̐e̅͟e̟̍n̻͖͊͡s͕̦͛̈,
d̡͚̕͝è̫̥͆e̪̚p ̪̓i̦͛̄͟ň̰͖̋ c͌͟ẖ͛ȑ̙̘͠ȏ͉̙́n̟̫̅̐ȯ͜c̺̋r͙̉yp̩̝̒̇s͂ͅi̺̦̒̇s̪͐,̖̅
͚̒à͇ r͋̃͜ͅeṃ̢̓͌é̲̼̎d̜̽y͈͗ ͖̠̏͠f̡͘o̠̊r ͍̌t̢͍̏͆im̬͍̽͞e̙͘.͎̀̚͢
̼̰͊̆A̯̜͂͡m̨̛̤͞õ̢̌ͅn̢̟͐̈g̮̈ ̣͔̌̅t̳̽͘͟h͓̉e̲͕̾͗ ͙̲́͗m̱̈on̰̿dè͙gr͓͂ee̡͆n̡̯̽̕ś̟̑͟,
̙́̾͟deȅ̝p̨̰͂̽ ̧͑in̪̜͌́ ̢̙́͠c̫͐h̬̳̊̆ro̼̐n͍̄̚͜o̗̿cry͙͡p̫̰͛̈́s͔͗ȉ̢̖̈s͕̒,̹̟͑͑
̧̲̎͊a rem̱͈̍̓ê̢̖͠dy̯̖̍̒ ̺̰̆̐f͎̎o͈͝r͓͆ ̛͕̌͜t̹̚i͙͆m̞͆e.
̭̀Ä͈m̳̝̩̟̒̎͒͛ȯ̙̞̓n̖͈̩͋̑͘g̢̨̝̜̫͉̦̓̆̐͒̌̒̕ ̫͖̘̳̬͛̈́̂̈́͡t̢͙̣͙̿̎̆̃͘ͅḩ̻͖̱̜̫̼͉̙͇́͛̉͛̊̃̽͐̅̕e̦̪̻̿̈͊̀͢ ̧̞͓̝͊͊͑̅m̡͇̹̾̔̍̕͢͢͞ǫ͍̙̘̭̭̞̯̏̌̃̋̎͂̕̕̚͜͡ͅn̛̤̪̘̫̺͍͌̉̇͆̎d͖̣̣̟̹̮̎̑͐̐͆̌͟͝e̘̮̫͓̋͂̕͡g̩̈́͜͠r̡͇̳͙̞̂͗̄̍͡e̹̱͓̙͉̹̟̗̿̂͒̏̋̃͒́ë̖́͟n͍̱͎̥̾̊̄̚š̢̮̦̀͠,͖̪̬͑͒̕
̠̎ḏ̹͚̫͆͋̓̔͡ͅe̖͍͚̙͎̹̋̎͋̃̊̔̃͘͢͟͡ͅḙ̡̹͎͖͉̘͔̹̉̍̆̅̽̈̂͂̎p͎͚̤͂́̌ ̥̳͓̩̪̮̏̆̑̇̏͛̏͢i͕̭͇̺̙͙̐̏̓̍̊̒͘͢n̮̯̯̬͊̈͊̎̑͢ ̛̪͈̥̣͖̬̀̀̔͋̾c̮̘̩̝̒̍́̏̾͢ḩ̧͕̝̥̮͇̳̱̪̞̿̂̈̅͐̃̈̉͂̚̕r̳̺̦̝̻̙͒̇́͌͌̋͘ͅó͔͚̟͙̺̅̑͛͋n̻͚͇̝͕̻̪̞̈́͋͆̓̂͛̏̈̈͑͜͢o̮͍̤͎͐́̀̆c̬̙̜̭͈̥̼̋̓͛̈̒̃̕r̪͓̙̻̣͔̺̫̻͒̓̾̋̀̀͌̎͞ỵ̢͍̖̺͖͇͋̐̑͆̉̕͜͡͝p̧̟͕͛̍̕s̨͉̩̝͈͔̗͉̑́͛̂̾͑̓̅i̻̐̋͟s,̱͉͓̹̫̙͓͉͗̆́͌͊́́́͘͜
̛̝̦̱̼̲͓͔̪̹̤͚͆̏̔̐̌̽͊̀͂̂ȁ̡̛̭̘̝͈͒͆͌ ̧͖̙͎̣̩̠͍̩͊̃͌͆̊̍̏̏̑r̩̖̝̦̺̔̎̋̓̃e̱͔͔̰̰͆̄̃͛̌m̛̦̤̫͈͚͍͗̈̐͑͂é̮̬͓̼̤̊̈́̿̀̏͟d̛̻̲̩̔͂y̡̧̘̺̟̯͔̿͆̋̃̕̕͡ ̧̣̼̻̑̆͘͘f̫̯͖̻̱͕̙͇͊̑̾̀̅̂̿͜͝͡o̡̼͙̦̝͇̍̓͊͑̀̂r͎͂ ̢̗͙̯͋͋͡͡ţ̗͔̻̞̮̼̘̀̔̋͐͐̀̄͘̕͟͜͞͠ͅḭ̧̩͚̹͉̬͖͍̹̐̀̌͐͋͒́͘͠͡ḿ̙̫͙̭̯̣̺̈̄͊͌̾͝e̢̒.̨̨̮͙̦͖̘͋͊̋̀̄̓̚
̼̮͓͉̪̩̦̪̐̓͗̾̍͒̂͋̇͟͢͞A̱̝̯͒̾̄ḿ̛̞̭̻̘̙̜͈͙͉̼͇͗͒̍͒͂̑͆͌͞ǫ̧̪̭̲̽͌́͗̅n͕͆g͗͢ ̡̟̩̹͍̗͈͗̍͗̑͋͐̚͡ͅt̤͙͚͔̖͇͔͂͊̂͗͘̚͝ḩ̢̖̠̩̠͇̘̝̣͚̎̇̽̋͗̋̎́͛͡͡e̦̜͕̺̽̑͛͠ ͉̪̙̭̟͖̃̀́̌͘͘m̡̙̟̤̜̻̉̅̄̒̎̓̚͡ͅͅơ̢͈͚̥͙̼̬̺͊̾̽̂͑̕͘n̬̳̤̋̐̀͘͟d͈̤̟̰̯̻͒̔͛͗̅̆͡ͅe̗̩̅͠g͇͞r̘̂͘͟ë̱̺̬̆͠ȅ̱̞̳̈̋ņ̨͇̜̯̞̰̝̯̞̝͑̃̿̓̀͌͌̿̌̈́͛s̛̭͚̞̰̫̠̭̖̒͌́̈́͌͐̅,͉͇͛̓
͔̓̈́ͅd̫̟̩̹̜̙̠̖͈̿̓̆̋̎̉̏̌͠e̘̫̗̦͙̫͙̖̼̓́̽̈́͋̒́̑͘͡ͅę̛̯̹́͘p̯̞̭̑̍̕ ̛̮͔͚͚͖̽̌̈́̔ī̯ń̫̼͝ ͉͝c̜͂h̖̙̯̬̪̪̾̇̏̐̍̌́͜ṟ̛͇̙̪̲̖͌̀̎̔̕̚͢͠ͅơ̧̮̱̹̯̞͕̠̈́͂̆̉̾̈́̓̿͟n̯͈̼̙̓͌̽͞o͍͐͒̕͢ͅc̙͔͕̗͇̹͔͆́͐́̍͛̿̂͢͟͡ŗ͈̮̗̮̻͉̤̈̓̔̃̊̋̈́̃̚ͅý̩̫̫͔͚̺̠͔͂̈́̈́͛̒͘͠p̧̼̠̬͂̈́̚͞s̲̠̘͖̞̈̈́̋́̒͌͢͜͟͡͝ī̤͕̻͉̤̙͂́͛̒̃̚͢͢͠s̛͕̮͉͙̻̬̋͊̀̐́,͉̖͘͝
̢̰̙̼̳̓̋̔̉̕͞ͅá̳͚̮̟̻̥͈̖̈̈̈͗̅͂͡ ̨̡̯͔̖̠͋͋͌̾̈̌r̜̺̲͑̍͐͟͡é̦̳̟̩̥̘͔̖́́͑̀̒͂͐͞ͅm̡̢̙̪̙̦̳̟̤͊̑̊̌̓̂̔́͞e͍͙̲̩̝̗̱̳̗̍̋͂͋͘͘͠͞͡d̲̪͈͖̰͂̀̿̓͛͠ͅy̥̭͔̟̩̖̪̲̦̮͂͌́͊̌̊̿͐͋͞ ̡̯̥͚̠͚̠̬̂͌̓̂̃̓͞͠f̤̪̟̲͂͛̅̈́̑͢͟͝͠ͅo̹̗͕͗̃͝ŕ̢̧͇̳͗̾̾̚ͅ ̛̝̝̻̱͙͌̊̀̂̌͟͞ͅt̛̩̘̰͓̤̰̭̟̀̓͆͊̆̇̀̀͜͟͡i̳̤͔̳͈͖͈̭̹̔̓̆͌̈̀͞͠͝m͖̮̥̣̞̊̐̈́͌̈́ë̻͓͓̀̿.̢̡̜̝̟͍͚͖̾̀̉͋͂̎̽̓͢͝
̘̠͖͖̩̽̒̎̇͂̓͘͟͜Á͓̯̔m̜͋ơ̟̫͕̊̇̈̀͢͢n̙͔̗̩̋͗͛͆g̠̯̟̥̖̀̈́̅͑̀ ̤̙͕̖̼̈́̐͆̓̈̕͜͟͝th̡̨̝̤͍̆̊̊͗̄̾̕ͅͅe̦̠̲͉͊͒͞͝ ̛͙̱̲͎̣͕̞͒̍͒͆̓̊m̞͈̼̏̍͋́̏͢ͅo͉̦͚̖̖̜̿̇̒͂̾͒́ͅn̟͔̠̰̄͑̓̓d͔̗̹̫͕͕̠̬͉̺̿́̃͋͐̌̾̄́̕͟͝è̱g̢̡̗̱̺̘̞͖̣͇̳͌̐̅͗̾̀̍͌̋͘͡r̺̼͖̄̓͢͞͞e̥̪̝̬̺͇͚͖͗̈́̑͛͂̿̄̂͋ͅe̺̘̭̔̐̆̆͢ṋ̪̼̩̲͖̰̮͍̺͛̅̃̀͆̄̒̏͛̾͟͞s̢̛̫̩͉̘͛̆̈́͋͞ͅ,̖͠
̹̩͇̣̜̏̂́͌̔dȩ͕͈͈̫̱́̔͂̾͝͝e̢̦͈̲̫̞̺̗͋͌͋̓̈́͐̄͞p͈̠͙̊̓͝ ̡̩͋̀͟͝ï̢̛̭̱̬̲͓̦͗̄͌̆̀n̹͖̫̎̋͆͊ͅ ̗̯̙̠̲̲͖̭̥̭̐͋̽̅͊̅́̕̚͞c̝͚̞̟̝̟̞̫͗́̅̆͒́̎̋̀͟͡ͅh̨̄r̼̙̖̫͙̲̓̈̏̈́́̎̀͜o͓͖͈̪̣̦̽̈̍̒͒̀͢͞n̨̡̰͐͑͞ō̡͎͚̟͚̟͖̿́̃̓͑̐͘͟c̡͚̫̙͂̂̋̋̆ͅṙ̨̢̩̪̠̆̇̾͌y͓̭̩͂̀͘p̛̫͓̹̳̏̚͝s̺̞̺̹͈̭͎̟͔̘̄̐̈́͊̿̑̕͘͢͝͞ĭ̡̡̮͙̙̙̙͖͌̽̾̑̄͋͊͘͢͜͠͠ͅs,̥̭̮̭̐́̅͠
̨͈͇͔̩͙̫̰̈́̀͋̾̆͂̃̊͟͡a̛̮̣̗̭̙̩̓̌̓̇̏̔ͅ ̡͍̜̾͊̓ŗ̨̲̭͎̦̦̫̏̌͊̏͋͝͞͝ę̼̎̔m͚̹̫̪̑̓́͞ĕ̠͓̙̀͐dy̡͔̗͚͆͂̍͞ ̛͕̫̇f̨̙̙̘̝̩͓͖̏̈́̀́̈́̀̓͘ȫ̳̙̻͙͎͓͎͉̞̫͙̐͌͌́͋̏̈́̒r̮̙̰̝̠̳͆̔͆̆͗͠ ̤̯͕̞̾̈̇͝ṭ̥̯̳͈̳̠̭̅̌́̉̍̊̅̕i̛̹̩̹̠͖͓̼̖̒̊́͊͊̇͝m̙̻͂̿ẹ̺̙̀̆͛͝ͅ.̧͇͈̤̫̙͒͛̑̒̏͠
R̴e̸p̸e̵t̶i̶t̶i̴o̷n̷s̸ ̷f̷r̷o̴m̸ ̷t̶h̶e̸ ̶v̸o̷i̶d̷.̸
̴C̸o̸n̵s̵u̸m̵e̵ ̸m̶e̴.̶
̵I̷ ̴a̵m̸ ̴a̵ ̵p̴r̵o̵d̶u̵c̴t̸.̵
We're only temporary.
Hold me in your ears.
Barley here...
dear Listener,
You make me feel useful.

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