Soul Call

Forget you

(All systems normal.)

The numbers follow me.
Clock reads 2:28.
Old apartment, old area code.
License plate in the next lane
one digit off from a past life.

Keys on the counter, wallet in place.
Jacket over the chair, just right.
Can't sit down until the sequence is complete.
Then I forget why I walked in.

Raise a glass—
(Clink.)

To the ones who finish what they start.
(Sip.)

To the ones who don't.
(Spill.)

To the ones who aren't sure what they're making,
but keep making it anyway.

My arms tingle, phone held too long.
Legs gone static from crouching too deep.
A space not built for me, but here I am.

I make things. Little things.
Loops and layers, pixel-stretched ghosts.
AI sings my words back at me,
like a mirror tilted just slightly off.

The frame reverses. The cut is clean.
It looks seamless, but I see the seam.
The trick is simple: pretend it was meant to be.

Raise a glass—
(Clink.)

To the ones who finish what they start.
(Sip.)

To the ones who don't.
(Spill.)

To the ones who aren't sure what they're making,
but keep making it anyway.

My arms tingle, phone held too long.
Legs gone static from crouching too deep.
A space not built for me, but here I am.

I make things. Little things.
Loops and layers, pixel-stretched ghosts.
AI sings my words back at me,
like a mirror tilted just slightly off.

The frame reverses. The cut is clean.
It looks seamless, but I see the seam.
The trick is simple: pretend it was meant to be.

Raise a glass—
(Clink.)

To the ones who finish what they start.
(Sip.)

To the ones who don't.
(Spill.)

To the ones who aren't sure what they're making,
but keep making it—

The sky looks fake.

That's fine.

The sky outside looks fake.

That's fine.

Loopback

An exploration of creating music with artificial intelligence. 

Loopback

𝚅𝚈𝙳𝟛𝙽

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