DNB By Matts Myth

Bleeding art  
I started the lyrical section for a song called bleeding art last night and found some wicked phone samples on the phone
I think I may even have to resort to some underground techno 

Teesh Love Chill TLC

Bleeding art, from a soul undone, Poetry and colors, all come as one. 
Every line I write, every mark I chart,
Oh, I’m bleeding art, I’m bleeding art. 
The pages tremble beneath my hand, Each word a fracture,hard to withstand. 
The ink runs wild like an open vein, Each line a testament to my pain.
I trace the echoes of what we were, A fragile memory, a fading blur. 
These fractured words, these broken lines, Are all that’s left of your love and mine. 
Bleeding art, from a soul undone, Poetry and colors, all come as one. Every line I write, every mark I chart, Oh, I’m bleeding art, I’m bleeding art. 
The pen, the brush, the paper, the hue, All scream of what I lost in you. 
I write the pain I cannot forget, A masterpiece carved from regret. And when the world sees my final piece, Let them know it brought no peace. 
For I lived to turn the dark to heart, Forever bleeding poetry, music, and art. Bleeding art, from the wreckage of love, A gift below, a curse above. Through the pain, I’ll tear myself apart, For I’m bleeding art, always bleeding art.

You Became Floyd

Cereal killer and other tales from the breakfast table

So which of the wipping boys do you choose 1 2 or 3
your move

Actions and Consequences

If they write you as a villan, Give them a story they will never forget but take what can not be replaced or given

The cute sister no body


I walk through walls like mist through trees,
A shadow without weight or need.
The world still turns, but not for me,
A ghost in flesh, unseen, set free,
Already dead, yet forced to breathe.


The sun comes up, but I don’t rise,
My body moves, my soul just lies.
A hollow shell, a vacant stare,
I left myself somewhere back there,
Yet no one saw me say goodbye.


The mirror holds a stranger’s grin,
An echo wrapped in paper skin.
I shake his hand, but feel no touch,
A fading echo, not much else,
A husk still waiting to give in.


Laughter rolls like distant rain,
Soft and warm, yet lost to me.
I hold the joke but not the joy,
Just play my part, a hollow toy,
A marionette in life's cruel dream.


Graves are for the ones who rest,
But I still walk, still play the guest.
A living corpse, no death to find,
The rot runs deep inside my mind,
And yet they call this being alive.


I shake the hands, I play the role,
The mask is tight, but no one knows.
Each word, rehearsed, a hollow ring,
An empty song I’m forced to sing,
Already gone, yet still on show.


The clock keeps time, but not for me,
I lost my place, I lost the key.
I move through life like smoke through stone,
A whisper left, a name unknown,
A soul unclaimed by death or dream.


They talk to me like I am here,
Like something lingers in this frame.
But I am dust before the wind,
A name that echoes, growing thin,
A candle burned down past the wick.


Once I thought that death would wait,
A final line, a closing gate.
But I am gone, though lungs still fill,
A dead thing walking, cold and still,
And yet the world won’t let me fade.


I held my funeral years ago,
No one came, and none should know.
The eulogy was left unsaid,
The body rose and left the bed,
And walked the world, already dead.

All good things  dead already

The sound returning like a sickness that was cured  returning early like Saturn with more lessons pain and suffing 

Endometriosis

Lilly & the Giant  building the machine

left on seen

Severed

My father alwatys said winning isnt everything, but losing is nothing

Fourth Place Heart

How does tomorrow sound ??
Forgiven because you never did anything wrong, 
I hope my feeling bleed into this 
because you were my choosn muse 
How does tomorrow sound ?
Current Moon is in AriesAries:
The feeling of uncertainty can make you solve problems faster then is natural. Do not rush as if there was a deadline. Try to slow down so that you can decide what you want to do and proceed at your own comfortable pace
I always hoped that 1 day id write some words or music that would save some one 
Knowing i cant even write to save myself
Truth be told she didnt break me 
Everyone of them girls wants a better man until they have to be a better woman 

How does tomorrow sound

Tinker Bel weaves deep bass with glittering textures, like a dream you can dance to. It’s playful yet moody, light on the surface but heavy underneath. Think enchanted forest meets underground club. Perfect for anyone into experimental vibes with a bit of bite. I'd love to know what it makes you feel.

Tinker Bel

Never Again

They etched the vow in ash and blood,
Built it on bones beneath the flood.
"Never again," they swore through tears,
While planting silence for future years.

But now the jackal wears the robe,
A crown of iron, a flaming globe.
In Gaza's cage, the children burn,
While history spins and will not learn.

No siren screams as loud as guilt.
No bunker shelters what we have built.
The ghost of Warsaw walks the sand,
Clutching a torch in a broken hand.

This is not war, it is a rite,
A ritual cloaked in hollow light.
Crimes against the soul of man
Disguised beneath a righteous plan.

The phoenix rose and turned to ash,
Feeding the fire with every clash.
We said those words and let them rot,
Forget-me-nots that we forgot.

There is no honor left to feign.
No peace in silence. Just the stain.
If never again still dares to live,
It must resist and must forgive
But never forget and never forgive
The lie that lets the slaughter live.

Never again is now

Stay safe ladies. . . The Space Gigolos are out there . . 

DieOne Techno - Is She  ( Sci - Fi Dark Techno Deep Club 128 Bpm )

DieOne_Techno - Is She  ( Sci-fi dark techno deep club 128 bpm )

DieOne Techno - Is She  ( Sci - Fi Dark Techno Deep Club 128 Bpm )

"Matt's Myth and the Suitcase Collective" is an intriguing concept that invites exploration into the world of storytelling and collaborative creativity. Imagine a group of diverse individuals, each with their own unique background and perspective, coming together to weave narratives that transcend traditional boundaries. At the heart of this collective is Matt, whose "myth" serves as a catalyst for the stories that unfold. The Suitcase Collective symbolizes the idea of carrying experiences and tales from one place to another, sharing them with new audiences and enriching them with fresh insights. This collective endeavor not only fosters creativity but also builds a community around the shared love of storytelling, encouraging each member to contribute their voice to the tapestry of tales being told. Whether through literature, art, or performance, "Matt's Myth and the Suitcase Collective" embodies the power of collaboration in creating dynamic, multifaceted narratives that resonate with audiences