I really like these gated short percussive sounds and that gliding sub is perfect

Nice!!  Love the chops in this one. ❤️‍🔥🎶

Also love the bass❤️💥
Just love the whole tune❤️‍🔥

That bass! Chops on point and love the panning on it... 🔥

Super dope dude!! Loved all the chops and sample drops throughout 🤘👽🤘

Wow !  ! great work on this, epileptic beat, I love it

Upon this threshold, where paths diverge,
I linger, a sojourner burdened by infinite reckonings.
The soil beneath my soles bears the weight of futures
Unfolded and folded again, each a tapestry unwoven.

What man may know the course of a single tread?
Each step is a covenant with consequence,
An oath sworn in ignorance, its seal unbroken
Until the hour when hindsight binds it in lament or praise.

By what right does the hand draw toward one road?
The other, no less verdant, no less fraught with thorn,
Growing dimmer behind the veil of departure,
Its promises forfeited to shadows,
Its calamities withheld, a mercy or a torment unspent.

Shall I, in favoring eastward winds,
Abandon the westward fires,
Where hearths may blaze with laughter,
Or ruin smolders in bitter silence?
Each bearing alike the weight of what-might-be,
Each carving the heart with its absence.

Lo, the mind wrestles as a ship in tempest,
Seeking harbor in reason yet finding none.
For reason, cruel arbiter, offers but semblances:
A mirage of certainty painted upon shifting sands.

Thus the world is shaped by our trembling choices.
This city stands where another was felled,
This life endures while another dwindles,
All decided in a moment unseen,
A quiet fulcrum tilting empires and hearts alike.

Think not this weight diminishes with time;
The path once taken spawns tributaries vast,
Each carrying the echo of the first divergence,
A thousand fates, a thousand selves unseen,
Whispering their half-forgotten lamentations.

And yet, tarry not too long at the crossroads,
For the earth itself shifts beneath indecision.
The unchosen path may vanish ere you act,
Its contours erased, its promises scattered like ash.

So step, knowing the act itself is its virtue.
Each path, though cruel in its exclusivity, 
Is rich with life’s ever-brimming cup,
And all roads lead, inexorably,
To the final turning,
where all forks are made straight.

The Final Turning - LDSR 179

My contribution for the LoopDiggers Sunday Roulette #179.
I had several tries on the sample until I it became what it is now.

being psychotic (LDSR179)

modulprinzip

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