Dark List June 2025

Santigold - Disparate Youth (Slowed by SOMESADBITCH)

running away - soundtrack baby

running away - yakamoto kotzuga

права на музыку не мои

the rights to the music are not mine!!!

F33LING (bonus track)

XXXHXAILO - F33LING$.mp3

F33LING$ (baby netflix) - xxxhxailo (8d)

There was a time, long before the chill, when the world was alive with the pulse of creation. Civilizations rose, their cities towering high, their knowledge vast—an understanding of the stars, of forces unseen. These people had danced with the future, believing they were its masters. But the earth had other plans.

Then came the cold. A shift—a sudden, brutal fracture in the fabric of time. The Younger Dryas, they called it, though no name could capture the scale of the disaster. The skies darkened, the winds howled, and the earth trembled beneath the weight of its own collapse. Like a distant, forgotten drum, a beat began to echo through the atmosphere—low, reverberating, like the earth itself was calling out. It was a signal, but a warning, too late to heed.

The cities that had once hummed with life fell silent. Frozen. The grand empires, the magnificent monuments—they crumbled in the grip of an unforgiving ice. In an instant, all that was once luminous turned dark. The knowledge that had once been woven into the very fabric of the world, now scattered, lost, buried beneath layers of frost.

The cold came swiftly, like a predator stalking its prey. It swallowed the land, encasing everything in a deadly stillness. For those who were still awake, the silence was deafening. The world was suspended in a moment of dread, a heartbeat stretched too long, holding its breath. It was as though time itself had been stretched thin, reaching towards an inevitable, crushing end.

The winds picked up, howling through the ruins of forgotten cities. There was a subtle shift, a trembling vibration through the air—a sense of something vast, hidden beneath the surface, something that could not be ignored. A force that moved without sound, but still made its presence known. The ground itself seemed to pulse with it, a rhythm that could be felt deep within the bones.

Nothing was spared. The great civilization that had risen so high was now nothing but dust, scattered across the frozen landscape. The once-lush forests were reduced to skeletal trees, their branches twisted like the final notes of a song played to its last breath. The ocean, once full of life, now lay still, as if even the waters had been frozen by the hand of some unseen force.

In the final moments, there was no one left to witness the true devastation. No one left to hear the sound of the world’s dying cry. It was only the aftermath that remained, the weight of what had been, heavy and silent. The ruins lay still, and in their silence, the echoes of a lost civilization whispered, their voices carried away by the wind.

And so it ended. In the cold, in the darkness, in the relentless, invisible force that had torn through all that had come before. The Younger Dryas had claimed everything—every memory, every piece of knowledge, every last ember of the world that had once been. And yet, in the frozen air, there lingered something: a pulse, faint but undeniable. A reminder that even in destruction, the rhythm of the world never truly dies.

Younger Dryas - 4th Sun Alliance

PHARAOH - Клюква (minus)

To move is to fall—an echo of something ancient, a hunger that does not wait, that cannot be satisfied, not by light or by fire. It calls not for answers, but for the surrender of questions, for the dissolution of certainty. For in surrender, you become the question, and the question is the answer that holds no meaning, but everything.

It is a terrifying kind of surrender, because to surrender is to lose. And yet, there is the pull. There is always the pull. It is not a tug of the will; it is the weightless draw of the soul, which knows nothing but its own need to fall, to follow, to dissolve. And what happens in that falling? What happens when the shape of hope is no longer a thing you can touch, but a thing you become? When you cease to grasp, to will, to move with intention, and simply exist within the movement itself? There is no fear in this knowing. Only the strange peace that comes with the act of letting go. There is no place for your hands, no place for your feet, no place for your mind. There is only the surrender, and the knowing that in surrender, you are no longer separate from the thing you sought.

You do not find hope. Hope is the unspoken gesture of being undone. It is the quiet collapse of all that you are into the place where you are no longer an "I," but the space between the waves, the pause between the breath. In this pause, you are not. You are simply being drawn, forever drawn, into the endlessness of becoming.

Surrender

"Who We Are" is the fifth installment of my album "Shifting Sands", releasing on May 16th, 2025 as a free download collection.
Click on "Free Download" to download the track, or visit hypeddit.com/misland/shiftingsands to get the whole album.

Alternatively, you can check all my available links at: linktr.ee/mislanddubs

running away (netflix baby)

born to death

Recent comments

setayesh

Related tracks