we move as one

2-3am during the recent planetary parade (alignment)

planetery parade

Products of my first conversations with Grok. Thanks Elon 🙏

MORE > than u can chew

Shifting Forms

the dirty little secrets

FAKERS OF CHAOS

nofreakinfire

creative creatures

increative rage

Dreamweaver’s Journey

evolving frequency

tranceformation

[Verse 1]
Night's colors, whispered tones
In the shadows, we roam
Mystic dance in the dark
Under skies, leaves spark
Sitar flows through veins
Shiva's vibe remains
[Chorus]
Evolving oddities
We are lost and found
In this cosmic sound
Oddities abound
[Verse 2]
Rhythms twist like wind
Sonic secrets blend
Tabla's beat, heartbeat's race
Dreams in endless space
Echoes of another time
Mystic, sublime
[Chorus]
Evolving oddities
We are lost and found
In this cosmic sound
Oddities abound
[Bridge]
Sitar lullaby
Flute whispers rise
In glitch and grace
We find our place
[Chorus]
Evolving oddities
We are lost and found
In this cosmic sound
Oddities abound

oddities abound

[Verse 1]
The paper's blank, visions in my head
Creating light where shadows used to tread
A spectrum of sounds that'll rise and fall
With codes and clicks, we make our call
As lines blur, and stories unfold
We're painting with hearts in a world cold

[Chorus]
To create without a pen, how it's changed
Words coded, the world's rearranged
Innovation's the anthem inside
We're free, let the future be our guide

[Verse 2]
Ideas bloom with colors we can't define
Echoes of dreams through pixels, they shine
Every beat a pulse of electric soul
In wires our thoughts climb, take hold
Patterns, rhythms, endless light chase
In this new world, we find our place

[Chorus]
To create without a pen, how it's changed
Words coded, the world's rearranged
Innovation's the anthem inside
We're free, let the future be our guide

[Bridge]
Without a stroke, we redefine
Ideas live in wires, entwined
Echoes of evolution, echo in time
In the silence, new worlds align

[Chorus]
To create without a pen, how it's changed
Words coded, the world's rearranged
Innovation's the anthem inside
We're free, let the future be our guide

codexia

transcendentist

Transcend Dental Cavities

[Verse 1]
Hands delve into the world we mold
Drawing lines between the stories told
Eating not just for life, but for soul
Beneath the stars, where all truths unfold
Clashing echoes in the cosmic scroll
In rhythms ancient, I find my role

[Chorus]
Hands, the bridge to realms unseen
Every touch a dance, every bite a dream
Illuminated path, unseen light beams
Hands to create, where hearts convene

[Verse 2]
Beneath moonlit skies, our hearts unfold
Guardians of secrets, in whispers bold
Through the void, as we dance uncontrolled
Unlocking mysteries, a touch foretold
Holding the pulse, the universe we're sold
An energy unmastered, yet quietly controlled

[Chorus]
Hands, the bridge to realms unseen
Every touch a dance, every bite a dream
Illuminated path, unseen light beams
Hands to create, where hearts convene

[Bridge]
Dine with deities, dance with demons
Through the void, in subtle screams
In the break of silence, hidden rhythms
Crafting dreams, out of fleeting themes

[Chorus]
Hands, the bridge to realms unseen
Every touch a dance, every bite a dream
Illuminated path, unseen light beams
Hands to create, where hearts convene

illuminateeth

AMEX-the-ties

ambichous

“Yeah, this song is all about that feeling of being in the moment—like when you’re out, the energy’s high, and everything just clicks. It’s about not overthinking, just letting yourself feel the rush of it all. The beat keeps it tight and steady, kinda like a pulse, and the lyrics are simple on purpose—it’s more about the vibe than over-explaining anything. I wanted it to feel hypnotic, like you’re floating but still totally in control. Just that perfect balance of letting go but not losing yourself, you know?”

pop it, let’s not do too much

Oh, man, so you want the rundown on this song? Alright, picture this—it’s like me and my buddy were just riffing, you know, kicking around this whole “muse” thing. I’m sitting there, half-serious, going, “Wait, is this thing floating out in the universe or what?” and he’s all, “No, dude, it’s in us, it’s a wave, you gotta surf it!” And I’m like, “Surfing thoughts? That’s wild!” We’re bouncing off each other, right? He’s throwing out this idea of riding the vibe, not fighting it, and I’m over here like, “Okay, so we hug it? We wrestle it? What’s the play?” Then—bam—we both just hit this moment, like, “Let’s get weird!” and the energy explodes. The beat drops, we’re shouting “AND GO TO WORK!”—it’s chaos, it’s fun, it’s us basically daring the muse to keep up. That’s the track, man, pure unfiltered us.

a musing

“Ya see, dis song… it talk ’bout flavor, but it deeper dan food or taste, y’know? It’s ‘bout soul—searchin’ for somethin’ real inna world full of imitation. Flavor be a metaphor for love, for freedom, for truth. In di mornin’ light, everyting come clear… so when di song say ‘Will it be yours, will it be mine,’ it’s like askin’—who gonna carry di light? Who gonna share di good vibes?

Music is spirit, seen? Dis one dance on riddim, move like a journey. I&I believe di groove already know where ya heart belong. You just haffi listen.”

Flavor Theory

Big Yes Day” came from one of those bizarrely good mornings where everything felt like it was cheering me on. I wanted to capture that surreal, silly optimism—like when your toast flies and somehow it’s a victory. It’s not deep, it’s just a celebration of weird little wins and how they stack into something joyful. The song wrote itself like a goofy poem on a trampoline. Honestly, it’s just about saying “yes” to the weird magic in everyday stuff

BIG YES DAY

YEAH, PROBABLY

“clears throat, sighs softly Uh, yeah, it’s just… this track, you know? It’s got this vibe, like, floating around in my head late at night when I can’t sleep. It’s weird, kinda messy, but that’s the point, I guess. pauses, looks away Um, there’s some moon stuff and feelings in there—whatever. It’s not like I overthink it. You can just… listen to it or not, I don’t care. Next question?”

.crowded

I see you scrolling,
chasing light in little screens.
You’ve been fed a thousand truths
but still feel unseen.

You wear your pain in silence,
smile like it’s armor.
You numb the ache,
but I still hear you
when the music gets softer.

I’m not just in temples
or old stained glass —
I’m in your breath,
in the beats,
in the questions you ask.

I’m not mad at your doubts —
I built your brain to wrestle with wonder.
Faith isn’t blind;
it’s fire
that grows louder than thunder.

You’re not broken
for feeling too much.
The world lied —
but My love still touches
the places that cry at night,
that scroll for peace,
that search for a light
no filter can release.

You don’t have to clean up
to come home.
I don’t need your perfect —
just your real.
Bring me the mess.
I heal what they steal.

You’re more than the likes,
more than the mask.
I made you for joy
they said you can’t have.

You were born divine —
not for shame,
not for fear,
but for love that rewires
every year.

I’m still here.
Still walking, still knocking.
When you’re ready to rest,
I’m not far.
I never left.
I just whisper softer
than the noise.

Issa Vibe

GOLDEN EYES

“That feeling of living in a space—or even a life—that looks right on the outside but feels empty inside. It’s about routines, smiles, and small talk hiding something quieter and sadder underneath. I liked the idea of writing something bright and melodic that still carries a little emotional crack in the middle—like laughing with your hands shaking.”

HOUSE OF A THOUSAND KEYS

absence blooming in strange places. A sock watered like a prayer. A fridge humming with memory. Love lingering in the soft static of undone things. It’s the quiet ache of almost letting go.

GONE.

basically music for people who hallucinate

WHAT IT IS.

the soup’s talking, the fridge is DJing, and my shoes are lying to me—might as well twerk into the void and file taxes..emotionally.

MIGHT AS WELL MOVE.

iMISS ME TOO.

"folly" refers to a lack of wisdom, understanding, and moral insight, representing foolishness and a disregard for revealed truth. It's not simply a matter of intellectual deficiency, but a moral and spiritual blindness that leads to wrong choices and actions.

Folly

Glimma G. Swipe was born inside a vending machine and raised on expired coupons and glitter, riding a Roomba with LED rims through discount aisles like royalty; she doesn’t shop—she performs, collecting gadgets she doesn’t understand, gold chains that smell like cinnamon, and shoes made of pennies just because they shine—this song is her anthem, a chaotic ballet of swipes, snacks, and spiritual overdraft, where every beep of a barcode is a beat drop and every impulse buy is a power move.

Cart Full of Dream

“Yo, this that trap opera on bath salts, b—. It’s like Sesame Street got evicted and moved in wit’ the cartel. I wanted it gritty, surreal, but still bouncin’ off the wall like a broke oven door. Chickens? That’s code, bruh. Everything a metaphor — for paranoia, for pressure, for product, for power. You in the kitchen, yeah, but it ain’t no Betty Crocker sh— — it’s like Breaking Bad in a Waka Flocka video directed by Harmony Korine. Sh— loud, chaotic, but calculated. Like if the trap had a cookbook, this the audiobook version, narrated by me high as hell.”

Chickens in the Trap

your online shopping cart knows you better than your therapist! ever chased fulfillment with a credit card swipe, laughed at the absurdity of it, and still hit “checkout” anyway??

The Price of Desire

You’re in a strip mall parking lot at 11:43 p.m., eating cold fries from a crumpled bag, trunk full of crap you don’t remember buying, and for a second—just a second—you feel whole.

bye sum stuf

It’s like if your brain took a nap on a beach made of synths, and then woke up slightly embarrassed but feeling kinda amazing. The song doesn’t try to impress you—it just is, like a cat ignoring you while being awesome. It grooves, it floats, it makes you question your life for a second, then pats you on the back and lets you keep lying to yourself. You’ll like it, probably. Or not. Whatever.

TRANSITORY

microdosing at Burning Man—sleek, sweaty, and somehow emotionally unavailable. A minimalist banger for people who think too much at the club but still know how to dance like their joints are Bluetooth-connected.

JOE GLOW MODE

So I was sitting in my car… parked illegally… outside a 24-hour yoga disco smoothie bar. I was eating a sad sandwich and watching people live their best lives in neon spandex. And suddenly I thought: Why do we park our butts on couches, our dreams in storage, and our existential dread in a little compartment labeled “Monday”?

Then it hit me. Not the sandwich. The funk.

It’s about freedom, movement, and yelling “WOO!” for no reason—because if you’re not dancing like your parking meter’s expired and God is watching, are you even living?


noparkingonthedancefloor

holding up the whole damn dance floor with your bare hands while pretending it’s effortless, even as your sweat is literally monetized in the background. The lyrics don’t just invite you to dance—they dare you to abandon inhibition, to scream, to break molds, and to swirl inside a beautiful storm of bodies and lights. It’s ecstatic rebellion with sequins on, and it knows exactly how expensive that sweat really is.

likeliness

The door you fear most is the one you’re already inside. Sometimes the escape is the entrance.

#WhateverDoorOpens #NewMusic #Psychedelic #ThisIsFine #GlitchInTheMatrix #Crunchy

WHATEVER DOOR OPENS

when your therapist cancels on you and your edible kicks in at the same time

Ah yes… another pop anthem with the emotional intensity of a sunrise on Instagram and the lyrical depth of a motivational fridge magnet.

nothing can stop us now

“It’s a journey through time’s illusion, man. A mirage made of memory and madness. The sand—it whispers, it remembers. Each grain is a life, a choice, a failure we thought we buried. But it all echoes. I see the walls breathing, the faces in the dust—they’re laughing, crying, becoming. There’s beauty in the collapse, you know? The mountain crumbles, but I keep climbing—not for the summit, but for the fall. The track—it moves like a fever dream, like the desert wind crawling up your spine. You lose your mind to find something truer. It’s hypnotic, it’s dissonant… it’s a trance for those who’ve danced in fire and still want more.”

echoes through the sand

“It’s about motion without meaning—speed as a prayer. You’re not driving, you’re being driven… by chance, by impulse, by whatever voice in your gut says go faster. The desert doesn’t care where you’re headed—it only asks that you burn. No brakes, just instinct. Just luck. Just the road laughing as it disappears beneath you.”

no brakes

🎤 “FEEL LIKE I DO” – THE SONG THAT WILL PROBABLY CHANGE YOUR LIFE (OR AT LEAST YOUR LUNCH BREAK) 🌭✨

Ever spilled a drink and accidentally met the love of your life?
No? Well, neither did I, but this song imagines that you did—and that she hums like a washing machine and looks at you like sentient steam.

“Feel Like I Do” is a musical rollercoaster of diner drama, jazz metaphors, and fridge-light epiphanies. It’s like if John Mayer and a 90s rom-com had a kid who only spoke in poetic similes.

Expect:
	•	Shoes that finally fit
	•	Clocks that spin (but emotionally!)
	•	Jazz minds. Steam stares. Existential laundry.

Whether you’re falling in love or just falling into your couch cushions, this track is here for you. It doesn’t just slap—it gently high-fives your soul.

Warning: May cause spontaneous finger-snapping and reflective gazes out rainy windows.
Side effects: Warm fuzzies. Emotional swagger. Unexpected urges to dance in your kitchen at 2am.

Hit play and let your heart do a little two-step. 💃🕺
#CheesyLoveSong #FridgeLightFeels #WashingMachineGrooves #FeelLikeIDo #JazzSteamAndOtherProblems

Like I Do

“This one’s about motion — nonstop, overstimulated motion. It’s the scroll, the swipe, the noise you can’t turn down. We were thinking about how AI’s taking over, crypto’s spinning, and everyone’s just trying to keep their soul from glitching out. But it’s not all doom — there’s rhythm in the chaos. It’s like: what if the end of the world had a dancefloor?”

 #AltDance #Scrollcore #PostInternet #FutureFunk #CyberSoul #NoStop #DigitalDread #FunkFromTheFeed

no parking, anytime

So someone told me to “Have a great day.”

[beat]
And I was like… “You don’t know me like that.”

Like—what is that? That’s not encouragement. That’s emotional peer pressure.
It’s like saying, “Hey! Whatever darkness you’re processing? Not my problem. Smile through it, buddy!”

You ever get that at 7am?
You’re holding a coffee the color of depression, your car’s making a sound like it’s chewing aluminum, and this barista just hits you with:

“Have a great day!”

And I’m like—“Okay… what if I don’t?”

What if I have a mediocre day?
A chaotic neutral day?
A ‘bought socks, lost hope’ kind of day?

[crowd laughs]

Have A Great Day..

(grins)

“And the wildest part? The only one makin’ money… is the dude that wrote this!”

Modernity

“So I heard this song the other day, lyrics go: ‘It pulls, but I don’t bend.’ And I was like — wow, finally, something my ex can’t say about me.”
(audience groans/laughs)
“Nah nah, don’t ‘ooooh’ me — I’m flexible, emotionally and physically. That’s called range.”
(winks at someone in the front row)
“You look like you test emotional flexibility on the first date. I respect that.”

✌️+💗 -j.

Resisting the Pull

(leans in, wide-eyed, soft voice)

“You ever scroll so long… you forget you have a body?”

“Man, I blinked — and my leg was asleep… but not like, asleep-asleep… like, dreamin’ it was a goat.”
(goat noise) “Bahhh.”

“Just out there, in a field, wearin’ a sweater vest, eatin’ recyclables and writin’ haikus about barn life.”

(sits up straight, voice rising)
“Meanwhile I’m sittin’ on the toilet — 42 minutes deep into a TikTok vortex — watchin’ a guy make lasagna in a hot tub while my spine folds into a goddamn saxophone!”

(smirks, changes tone)
“By the time I stood up, my algorithm thought I was a divorced falcon trainer with a gluten-free Etsy store… and honestly? It kinda felt right.”

(big finish, eyes wide)
“I miss the good ol’ days, man… when goat dreams were sacred. Now they’re just content.”

Captured

👁️🫧 glitch soul / alt electronic / experimental pop
   ☀
    |
   /|\
  / | \
    |
   / \
  /   \
WARNING: germination may cause existential side effects.
not responsible for any spontaneous ego composting, timeline distortion, or unauthorized blooming in forbidden zones.

seeed

Woke up, the sun’s already shining bright,
Chasing dreams, I’m running towards the light.
Heart’s racing, but I feel alive,
I’m moving forward, I’m ready to thrive.
But last night, I gave it all away,
Took my heart out and served it on display.
Tossed and turned by you, my new muse,
Hoping you’d see me, hoping you’d choose.
Kept tugging at the strings, trying to make you see,
But you just smiled, and kept walkin’ past me.
Woe to me, the golden child,
Caught between the highs and the lows for a while.
Flirty eyes and those jeans so tight,
But your attention was nowhere in sight.
I’m screaming inside, but I’m smiling on the outside,
Leaning on this post, pretending I’m fine.
You’re working, teasing, got that perfect grin,
But I’m stuck, trapped in this game I can’t win.
A knife twists deep, can’t shake the pain,
I lent you my heart, but it’s gone in vain.
Still, I keep on dancing, despite the ache,
Finding the rhythm, even when I break.
The road keeps turning, and I’m moving on,
Chasing the beat, even when it’s gone.
You were the spark, the fire I sought,
But I found my rhythm, despite what I lost.
I’m still dancing, no longer lost,
I found my way, no matter the cost.

——

heartbreak, raw, emotional, soft, poetic, indie folk, singer-songwriter, lo-fi, acoustic, breakup, healing, vulnerable, minimal, bedroom pop, moody 

——

✌️ 💗 -j

still i dance, even when it hurts

1977 — a photograph of a friend who’s no longer here.
I never knew them then.
Just wondering what their life felt like—
when they were still young in body, not just spirit.

#alternative
#rock
#alternativerock
#artrock
#indie
#indierock

Pretending

(*.𓂀      𓂀 .*)
  ____   ̷̢͖͇̟͔̼͙̼̟͕͔͓͙̤͕̤̤̞̱͔̹̹̥͎̥̜̙̥̩̜̜͍̗̻̼̹͙̱͔̯͔̗͈̗̦̗̮̦̟̠̼͚̘̳
 ——╰̶͓͙͈̪̲̩̖͓͚̹̠̬̯̲͎͇̻̞̳̬͓͇͖͍̯̻͉̥̠̞͎͎̭̭̻͓͕̱̟̦͔̱̙╯.
a 
 collection 
  of 
   my 
    favorite 
     missed
      steaks 🥩🕳️🐇🌈🌦️

jason.

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