Rain clicks on the window
Tea breathes in my hands

Faded hoodie, quiet room
Warm lamp glowing through the gloom
Old notebooks spread on the floor
Memories drifting to the door
I don’t rush to pull them back
They keep me gentle when I crack

And it’s fine
Sitting here inside my mind
In the quiet I can find
Little pieces left behind

Loose papers flutter in the breeze
Late-night hum from the old TV
I count the moments as they pass
Like dust caught in a pane of glass
Solitude wraps around my chest
Not heavy, just a place to rest

And it’s fine
Sitting here inside my mind
In the quiet I can find
Little pieces left behind

Soft rain
Soft glow
I stay
I know

And it’s fine
Sitting here inside my mind
In the quiet I can find
Little pieces left behind

And it’s fine

The entire sound is in my hands. I write cyber poetry, produce, and compose every track ready for Immersive 3D. Every beat is crafted for spatial and next-gen headphones.
Intimate lyrics, total immersion, every track.

For 30 years I kept unfinished demos to myself, never letting them out. Now I finish what I start and release it the moment it’s alive.

I use every tool available, human or machine, as an instrument.
Technology doesn’t replace creativity. It expands it.

And it’s fine

Terminalose