Just Like a Dream (As It Is) was made entirely at home. I recorded my voice in my room, in the bathroom. Every sound still carries the air of those walls.

I was sinking into myself after a divorce, digging up ghosts from my school years and the fragile start of adulthood. Rehab. A rape. Memories that rot slowly, refusing to let go.

The songs didn’t come gently. They crept through the floor. They breathed in the dark. They smell like the rooms I made them in... Heavy, still, familiar in the worst way.

This is not music for daylight. It’s for when the night is too close, and you can’t tell if the sound is in your head or in the walls.

Ghosts of My Childhood

Bullying Me Forever

Unrealities

I am Mr. Diego and Mr. Wilson. Like my own Jekyll and Hyde. Two names. Two shadows.

I make music in the space where they bleed into each other. Most of it is recorded at home, in my room, late at night when the city is asleep and the walls feel too close.

Unrealities

Mr. Diego & Mr. Wilson

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