a lil track i've had finished for a while, thought i'd upload it! i hope you'll like it!

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breathe

fool you

I left the apartment. not because I had anywhere to go, but because I couldn’t breathe in it anymore. The walls were too familiar, the silence too personal. Out on the street, at least the stink of gasoline and strangers’ curses gave the illusion that something was still happening , that the world hadn’t completely died.

Though maybe it had. Maybe it’s just lying there, rotting quietly, and we’re all just worms with cigarettes in our teeth and traces of lost time carved into our foreheads.
 
At a café that never smelled like coffee, I sat by the window to watch other people move. Life was always somewhere else. Women passed by with dead eyes, and men who looked like they’d lost something they didn’t even know how to name.

There was a letter in my pocket. I hadn’t opened it. Not because I was afraid. I already knew what it said. 

I was tired of myself. Not even the suffering, it had long since dulled, but that thick, oily emptiness that spills out of you when you don’t even have the strength to long for anything anymore.

I wanted to go home, but there was no home. I wanted to sleep in arms I’d never known. Maybe this is someone else’s dream, someone sleeping peacefully while I drown.

learn to drown

Hints of the Autumn Breeze

I feed on what’s left of me.
day after day.
it’s not hunger, not really.
more like… maintenance.
keeping the rot from falling apart too fast.

the demons
they don’t scream anymore.
they hum.
soft, constant,
like the sound behind silence.

I tell myself it’s discipline.
that I’m fighting.
that I’m becoming.
but I know what that smell is.
I know what it means when the mirror looks tired before I do.

sometimes I think the rot isn’t decay.
maybe it’s transformation.
maybe I’m not breaking, I’m… refining.
yeah.
refining.
that’s what I said last time, too.

there’s no redemption.
no release.
just the slow rot of trying again.
again.
again.

I forget what I wanted to fix.
I just remember the shape of the wound.
it’s familiar.
it’s home.

and I feed on what’s left of me,
day after day,
so the demons won’t starve.

two_o_three_no_more_me

Downtempo, melancholic, cinematic, beautiful vocals, deep vulnerability, futuristic downtempo pop music with subtle glitches and deep mono subwoofer. It’s a Jynxy special. Good for chilling out on October evenings 🐈‍⬛🎃 •((3CH03$_0F_ŤĦ3_FŮŤŮŘ3_M3TÅTEM))•

ECHOES OF THE FUTURE

Epic PXC - MIST

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MEMETiC crafts sonic wormholes—glitch-hop, IDM, and trip-hop fused with raw emotion and pulsating bass. Think recursive beats, melancholic synths, and cyberpunk dreams that ripple through your skull. Follow for immersive bespoke soundscapes #Neural #GlitchHop #IDM #CyberpunkMusic, #Trippy #Futuristic 

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