Oooooohhhhhhh can’t you see
This can never be
I belong to me
(and) I won’t go quietly
Into your 
Moulded for your
Boxed inside your
Category

Spoken word part:

Do we really need to allocate everything to neat little groups?
Including ourselves?
What is it about our uniqueness that scares you?
The upside-down fork in the cutlery drawer
That discordant note
The outlier on the graph spoiling the clean line
We are all outliers on different graphs

Dangerous (Samuel Cosmic Extended Mix) · (Analogtune Edit)

A Drum of Tears Gözyaşlarının Davulu

Weisheit, Widerspruch & Wundervolle Verwirrung – alles in einem Lied! Wenn Konfuzius das hören könnte, er würde erst nicken… und dann lachen!

Der Schlammende Fluss

Go on, go on.
Can't Stop Playing Along
Won't Say How It Is
Lost what change feels
Can't remember how I learned this game
Of saying what keeps things the same

How Would I Know

Crossings on Proton #59 - Jakob Mäder

Fading.9

Déception? Peut-être. 
Mais regarde— Tout brille, tout danse, et rien ne tarde.

Paris Insouciant

This had to happen sooner or later—there’s hardly a good idea I don’t owe to Espresso Martini.

Dance meets the unhinged. A whispered ritual. A flirty glitch in the system.
For those who like their bassline smooth, their logic broken, and their feelings shaken—not stirred. Say it with me… espresso martini. 🍸

Espresso Martini

CACHOEIRA

I'm Not Him

I don’t write songs in the traditional sense. I prioritize sound and theme over grammar or logical narrative. I often look between the moments we usually skip — the pauses, the loops, the unfinished thoughts.

It’s immersive, like film music — but you have to imagine the film.

I listen to myself. I write down what the song says.
Sometimes it says:
Can. Can’t. Fight. Bite.
Sometimes it says:
Text the moon, please.

You’re not supposed to “understand” it.
But you’re welcome to feel what it means.

This style — I sometimes refer to it as Beat Listened.

Der Schlammende Fluss

SwenLdn