LAPSE

Lapse

Echoes

[LAPSE]

LAPSE TUNES.

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

I was practicing Erik Satie's classic: Gymnopedie 1 <3

I got a bit disinterested (I'm bad/impatient at learning other peoples music)...so, I stole his left hand and after some noodling made my own melody within his structure. Just trying to live in his mind, in my own way, for a time, in our current times. The song slowly evolves from that inspirational source, more or less, in the order of my abstracting.

𝗕𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗰𝗮𝗱𝗲𝘀 𝗯𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝘂𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗹.
𝗟𝗲𝘁 𝘂𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲𝘁.
𝐀𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 Æ𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫,
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐰𝐬.

𝘈𝘮 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨? 𝘈𝘮 𝘐 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘥? 𝘐𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘹? 𝘈 𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳? 𝘐𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘱 𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘥𝘶𝘦𝘴? 𝘈 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘔𝘶𝘻𝘢𝘬? 𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘐 𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵? 𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯? 𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘶𝘯? 𝘋𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳?

¯\_(.-.)_/¯

Track art made with the help of MagicaCSG <3

Back to Dark Souls 3, baibai!

CONSUME

Atoms Of Æmber

I am a shambling corpse.
I want out of this place.
There's nothing left here.
There's nothing left here.
Why was I brought here?
Instincts keep me from leaving.

Cotard Has Me Pegged

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

Teleporter

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


Image: Galileo sunspot drawings, modified.

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

..and Yet, It Goes Nowhere

It sure is.
Welcome to the Sentience Bazaar! 

https://goo.gl/yLDzT9

http://bit.ly/1tpEAwn

Being Alive Is Fucking Weird

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

No Time

"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

Virtual Human for your digital needs.™

CONSUME MEDIA, HUMAN: 
 https://youtu.be/TKOEGJxbVYE

Virtual Human

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

byebye.


Originally part of: 
https://music.unlog.info/album/va-unlog-complex-01-unlog-x-blackelk

I Blueshift:
https://lapse.bandcamp.com/track/i-blueshift

I Redshift

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

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

https://soundcloud.com/lapse/broken-shell

(S)hell

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

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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