You are on another planet Man 🔥🔥🔥

WE ARE GONNA DIE [200 BPM]

To all that helped me through rough times . Sutra is back Body Mind and Soul

Muppet 20

TURBINENS - 1st Manuscript

Vision EP

Vision

Do My Thing

Metal shards, strip and flay
Toxic mist, dissolve the day
It’s the terror, razor-clear
Marching bodies, disappear
Concrete bunkers, hollow gaze
Broadcast panic, broadcast blaze
Fan the riot, feed the fire
Manifestations of the plague, so malignant, off the wire
Simple fracture, no distraction
Grip the blade, break the law
Twisted world, no escape
So receive me, had enough
Shut me down, shut me down
Rot and infiltrate
Hot to eviscerate
Rot and infiltrate (Tear the skin)
So hot to eviscerate (Blind with sin)
(Is it safe?)

Deviation, viral sprawl
Endless cycle, innocence mauled
He who speaks, never weak
Crippled virtue, tongue in cheek
Viral plague, the truth decays
Immunity, avoid remains
In the trench of pestilence
Scriptures scream, announce your faith
Mutter death, new decay
Strangle hope, newborn prey
Degradation of the mind
Venerate, all entwined
Protect, design the moral plan
Infallible as propaganda
Completely void, no way back
Hot to infiltrate
We rot or eviscerate (Go nowhere)
Hot to infiltrate (Tell yourself)
We rot or eviscerate (Search your soul)

Agony
Inner thinking brain
Clanking chains
Growing pain
(Is it safe?)
Bloodshot
Mutter death, new decay
Strangle hope, newborn prey
Degradation of the mind
Venerate, all entwined
Protect, design the moral plan
Infallible as propaganda
Completely void, no way back
Agony profusely stains
The inner thinking of the brain
Accusations, clanking chains
Experiments with the groans of pain
All prefer, no one blames
The terror in an animal’s screams
In cages our future
The answer’s insane
Rot and infiltrate
So hot to eviscerate (Show your faith)
Each adds infiltrate
Rot and infiltrate
So hot to eviscerate (Each one infiltrates)

(Crawl for the exit)
(Crawl for the exit)
(Crawl for the exit)
(Crawl for the exit)
(Crawl for the exit)
(Crawl for the exit)
Oh, void, void, void, void, void
Void, void, void, void, void
Void, void, void

INFILTRATE

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Bioluminescent bass drops meet cosmic visuals—skip ahead if you dare!
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Dark techno + trippy fantasy art = your next late‑night obsession.
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Echoes of the Fungi Lords
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I. Spores Beneath the Obsidian Dawn
Deep in the marrow of an unnamed continent, a cavern yawns—its ceiling a cathedral of black crystal, its floor a velvet quilt of mycelial lace that glows like moon‑soaked snow. From that living lattice a lone spore quickens, silver as starlight caught in water.

Nyra, a wanderer whose dreams have always whispered in forgotten tongues, kneels beside the spore. She feels it trembling against the pulse in her palm, hears it singing inside her skull—a hum so low it might be the heartbeat of the earth itself. When she breathes, the air tastes of petrichor and electric pine.

A ripple of emerald vapor uncoils from the ground, shaping itself into a serpent crowned with obsidian feathers. Its eyes are twin vortices, galaxies spinning in reverse. With a hiss that feels more like a promise than a threat, it slithers around Nyra, dusting her skin with bioluminescent pollen.

The cavern wall before her softens into translucent flesh. Behind it, shadow‑figures in chalk‑white masks beat unseen drums, their motions slow and tidal, summoning glyphs of an empire lost before language was born. Nyra steps forward, and the wall parts like silk, inviting her into the Spiral.

II. The Spiral of Masked Voices
She finds herself upon a circular mesa suspended in nothingness—an impossible stage surrounded by endless night. Masks float above the rim, each carved with a rune no living alphabet could hold. They chant in a tongue that slides sideways through thought, and Nyra’s own words fall away like leaves in autumn.

The serpent coils at her feet, then bursts into spores of scintillating jade. The pollen swirls upward, knitting a doorway of refracted moonlight. Through it marches a procession of tribesfolk draped in feathers and radiant lichens, skin tattooed with constellations that shift like migrating flocks.

They circle Nyra, marking her brow with violet resin that burns cold. In that sear of ice she sees a vision: titanic beings—Fungi Lords—looming in a valley of living quartz. Their limbs are roots, their crowns are coronal shrooms fuming rainbow spores that rewrite the wind. They speak without mouths, their voices felt rather than heard, commanding her to bear witness to the Cyclone of Prism Blood.


Continues on the website: 
https://grasspatchbum.com/2025/07/23/echoes-of-the-fungi-lords/

Echoes of the Fungi Lords

JOSS - 909

Groovy Schranz oder so

Techno / Hard techno / Tech house / Rawstyle / DNB

Music is a big part of my life. It makes me forget everything that happens in daily life. 

A kind of XSCAPE from my mind.

I like to create different kind of tracks. My main genre is Hard techno/ techno but I like to experiment and just create how or what I feel that day. 

Thank you all for your support ❤️

You can follow and support me on Spotify and Instagram too:
XSC4PE (Insta: Xsc4pe_m)

Do My Thing

XSC4PE

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