#Riff interface

[guitarbomb]

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[hemlockesprings]

im considering making a song, but my main problem is the actual music

i dont know anyone who plays instruments, or atleast the ones that id add in the song,

do you have any ideas on how to get around this?

hmm..............

I *also* got no clue how to play ANY instrument 😅😅😅😅...in a sense, that helps me make songs 😭! I don't know anything, and because of that, I know everything!

How I start a song is I pull up Logic (the interface I use) and I tap away on different presets. And I'm not unique in any way lol, that's literally how every musician does a song (they'll put up an interface and just start playing sh!t).

The biggest part is really DOING. As for KNOWING how to play things....it's not really a requirement. If you kind of hear something musically in your head, you're lowkey 50% of the way there....making music to go along with a song is a matter of sorting out what's in your head and going with the flow of the song and feeling what it needs.

Your lack of knowledge isn't a problem! If anything, it's a super power! Some of the coolest artists are people who "don't know" because they just PURELY go off of sound and feeling, and truthfully, that's all the knowledge you really need to be a musician!

For a lot of my stuff, I riff off presets on my laptop and just kind of hope that everything will come together at some point 😅 but some instruments (particularly the guitar), I have to ask people to play the for me.

What helps me though when communicating what I want is I'll bring up a fake guitar on Logic (just using guitar as an example) and figure out what I hear in my head. If I can't play it, then I'll voice memo it or literally sing it to the guitarist.

So I guess the crux of this post is 1) Just start playing, 2) Your lack of knowledge isn't a problem and 3) if you really don't know, ask around!

I hope that helped some!

-🔒💞

[gargoyleandgremlinpress]

This typeset of Pentimento by orange_crushed was created by @teleportbooks for me in the 2022 @renegadeguild typeset exchange! (And bound as part of my Binderary 2023 stack, and look, I am REALLY behind at posting right now, and going to schedule some posts to catch up.)

This fic is a MDZS Wangxian modern AU set in a museum, where Lan Wangji is an art conservator, and Wei Wuxian is an art handler. (Drama! Tension! Meeting after years apart!) One of the joys of a well-constructed AU is seeing how the author recontextualizes canon, and I really enjoyed how the pieces fit together in this fic, as well as Lan Wangji's voice and point of view.

I raided my wife's art supplies for this one (also for the most themed photo op I've done to date) and used two different types of canvas for the book cloth. The lighter cover is just untreated canvas, backed with fusible interfacing and tissue, run through a home laser printer for the cover, and the title on both the cover and spine is acrylic paint using a Cricut-cut stencil. The darker canvas on the spine was gessoed and had a backing on it, and it did NOT want to stick with wheat starch paste, and only held with great reluctance with straight PVA glue. But it worked in the end! The endpapers are some of my wife's gelli-plate printing experiments, for a modern art vibe.

The typeset is lovely and elegant, with a title page set up like a gallery placard, and @teleportbooks included all of the artwork referenced in the fic as if they were colour plates in an art book! Look at this gorgeousness...

I'm pretty happy with how this one turned out overall, and the setting was definitely fun to riff off with the materials used. (Although I will only use that darker canvas again under duress... or for something else where it's the perfect fit, honestly.)

[morgan-va]

Chapter 31: (Don't Fear) The Reaper (Serial Designation V x Reader)

Masterlist

A/N:

This chapter has some music aspects that are optional, but are what I had in my head while writing, so feel free to play them while you read. I'm using my allotted corny ahh soundtrack coupon for this chapter.

Also, for the purpose of this story, V doesn't know that Tessa isn't Tessa. I've seen some people say she knew in the show, others say she didn't. I don't really care. She doesn't know. K thx bye

You roll across the cold floor, momentum carrying you straight to V’s feet.

She stares down at you, her yellow eyes wide with shock before narrowing into an irritated glare.

"Are you stupid?" she growls.

You chuckle, wincing as you push yourself up. "Maybe—but you did say you’d kill me if I left your side again."

She groans, dragging a hand down her face. "Unbelievable."

Before you can say anything else, she grabs you by the collar with one hand, flares her wings, and launches both of you down the hall.

The sheer force of the takeoff knocks the sentinels aside, some tumbling back as the two of you shoot past. The wind rushes against your frame, and for a moment, it almost feels like you might be okay.

Then, more sentinels pour in through the far entrance, blocking your escape.

You grit your teeth. "It’s not looking good."

V sighs, shifting her grip on you before setting you down. "Yeah.. my bad. Shouldn’t have dragged you into this."

You reach out, grabbing her hand before she can pull away. She blinks, eyes darting up to yours.

"If I’m gonna die again," you say, "I’m glad it’s with you. Don’t apologize for that."

Her fingers tighten around yours, a small, almost bashful smile pulling at her lips.

Then, an idea sparks in your mind.

"Hey, if we are gonna die, might as well do it in style."

V cocks her head. "The hell does that mean?"

You grin. "Mind if I play a little something?"

Her smile widens, razor-sharp teeth glinting in the dim light.

"Fuck yeah."

With a flicker of internal code, you activate your built-in JCJenson speaker system, with music courtesy of Uzi and a bit of piracy.

A small MP3 player interface pops into view on your HUD:

▶ Ballroom Blitz - Krokus

00:00 ◉——————————— 04:01

The opening riff kicks in just as you tighten your grip on your hammer, glancing at V. She meets your gaze with a wild grin, claws twitching in anticipation. “I can work with this. Just try to keep up.” she says, her voice nearly lost beneath the wailing guitars.

She surges forward before the first sentinel can even react, her claws tearing through its skull in a violent spray of glowing ichor. You follow in her wake, swinging your hammer into the nearest sentinel’s head before it can light up, cracking its visor and sending it reeling. Another lunges from the side, but V is already there, catching it mid-air and hurling it into the wall hard enough to leave a dent.

You focus on watching her back, slamming your hammer into the legs of any sentinels trying to flank her. Each time she advances, you move with her, sweeping up any stragglers before they can become a threat. When a pair of them leap from opposite sides, she lets out a frustrated growl. “Ugh, there’s too many of these freaks! Techie, time for a ride.”

Before you can ask what she means, she grabs you by the waist and lifts you clean off the ground. With a powerful flap of her wings, she spins in a tight circle, and you realize what she’s doing a second before impact. You let the momentum carry your hammer forward, the weight of it colliding with the first sentinel’s head in a deafening crunch. She continues the spin, and you barely have time to reposition before your next swing slams into another’s light, shattering it entirely before it can flash you.

V whoops, clearly enjoying herself. “Damn, I should fling you around more often!”

She finally sets you down, and you stumble slightly before steadying yourself. The sentinels seem to hesitate now, their processors struggling to adapt to your unpredictable assault. You use the momentary pause to catch your breath, standing side by side with V as she reloads.

“Not bad, Techie,” she admits, flashing you a quick grin before cocking her machine gun with a sharp metallic clack. “Now, let’s finish this.”

You nod, gripping your hammer tightly as the music surges, ready to face the next wave.

The battle rages on, the pulsing rhythm of the song fueling your movements. You swing your hammer with precision, striking the sentinels just hard enough to knock them off balance, leaving them wide open for V to finish the job. A well-placed hit to a sentinel’s knee sends it staggering back, just in time for her to tear through its core with a single swipe of her claws.

The two of you move together seamlessly—when one of them lunges at you, V is already pulling you back before its teeth can sink in, blasting its head off with her energy cannon before it even lands. You repay the favor by intercepting another mid-strike, slamming your hammer into its side and sending it sprawling.

“Not bad, Techie,” she shouts over the chaos, her tone carrying an edge of genuine approval.

You grin, despite yourself, ducking just as she fires another shot past you, the heat of the blast rushing over your head. The sentinel behind you crumples instantly. Even though you're not as strong or fast as her, the chemistry between you both makes the fight feel almost effortless.

Almost.

The number of sentinels is finally beginning to thin, but exhaustion is creeping in. V, for all her bravado, is beginning to slow just slightly, and your arms ache from swinging your hammer so much. But there’s no time to rest—the last few sentinels snarl, their movements growing more erratic as they become desperate.

A sharp, metallic crunch cuts through the chaos as a sentinel you thought was down for good suddenly clamps its jaws around your hammer. The force of its bite rips the weapon from your hands and sends you sprawling onto your back. Your systems scramble to process what just happened as you see the creature rise shakily to its feet, its broken frame barely holding together.

V reacts in an instant. With a snarl, she drives her foot straight through the sentinel’s skull, the metal giving way with a sickening crunch as its body spasms and then falls limp. She barely spares it another glance before reaching down to pull you back up.

But before you can grasp her hand, something shifts in the periphery of your vision. A blur of red.

“V—behind you!”

She turns, but not fast enough. The red-eyed sentinel lunges from the shadows, its jagged teeth sinking deep into her shoulder. Then, with terrifying force, V’s arm tears free from its socket, a spray of black oil splattering across the floor. V staggers, her remaining hand clawing at the air, but the sentinel isn’t finished. Its visor flashes bright, bathing her in crimson light.

She goes rigid.

“No—no, no, no!”

You watch in horror as she collapses, unmoving, trapped in a boot loop. Her visor flickers, locked in an endless loading sequence.

The red-eyed sentinel prowls closer, its growl reverberating through the ruined corridor. Around you, the remaining sentinels begin to converge, their glowing eyes reflecting off the pool of oil seeping from V’s motionless body.

You’re outnumbered. Unarmed. And you’re about to die.

But worse than that—so is she.

The thought of them tearing her apart, of leaving her like this, defenseless, broken, dead—it ignites something inside you. A fire you didn’t know you had. It floods your circuits, surging through your frame like a dam finally bursting. It doesn’t feel like any anger you’ve felt before. This is something deeper, something raw. Something powerful.

Your visor flickers violently, your systems stuttering under the sudden surge of energy.

> ERROR: SYSTEM STABILITY COMPROMISED  

> UNAUTHORIZED POWER SURGE DETECTED  

> OVERRIDE PROTOCOL ENGAGED...  

> AS-Backup Initiated  

> ERROR—UNDEFINED FUNCTION—ATTEMPTING RECOVERY...  

> SYSTEM RECALIBRATION IN PROGRESS…  

For a moment, code floods your vision. Then clarity.

The fear vanishes. The pain, the exhaustion, the doubt—all of it dissolves beneath the sheer, overwhelming force now coursing through your body.

The sentinel snaps its jagged maw at you, then flashes its light.

You blink.

Nothing.

No boot loop. No sluggish response. No system errors.

The sentinel’s head tilts, the glow of its optics flickering in what almost looks like confusion.

▶ People = Shit - Slipknot

00:00 ◉——————————— 03:35

Without hesitation, you launch yourself at the sentinel. Your fingers clamp around its throat, servos straining as you lift it off the ground and slam it into the wall with enough force to dent the metal plating behind it. It screeches, but you don’t let up, driving your fist into its torso again and again, feeling its frame buckle beneath the sheer force of your blows.

With a final push, you throw it to the floor.

But there’s no time to finish it off.

You spin, just in time to see three more sentinels closing in on V’s defenseless body.

Not happening.

With a snarl, you charge, fists clenched and ready.

You throw yourself into the fight, fists colliding with metal as you push the sentinels away from V. They snarl and snap, lunging at you with animalistic aggression. You trade blows with them, keeping them occupied, but they’re relentless.

One of them surges forward, its razor-sharp teeth sinking deep into your shoulder. Warnings flash across your HUD, but you ignore them, seizing the opportunity. Your hands clamp down on the creature’s neck, fingers digging into its plating as you tear its maw away from your body. Before it can recover, you slam it to the ground and crush its skull beneath your foot, the force of the impact splitting the concrete floor beneath it.

Two left.

They lunge at the same time, claws slicing through the air. You manage to land a few devastating punches on one, but the other ducks low and slashes at your leg. You hear a sickening snap as your hydraulic lines are severed entirely. 

> ERROR: HYDRAULICS SYSTEM COMPROMISED 

> MAJOR LEAK DETECTED 

But… you don’t feel it. There’s no pain. No reduced function. Nothing. Your leg still moves like normal, even though it shouldn’t.

You don’t waste time questioning it. You whip around and deliver a brutal roundhouse kick, sending one sentinel sprawling. Before it can recover, you pounce, fists crashing down onto its metal frame over and over again. It screeches and thrashes, struggling to get up, but you don’t stop. You won’t stop.

Your fists crash into the sentinel’s metal body again and again, the force behind each blow growing stronger. The rage inside you doesn’t subside—it builds, overwhelming, relentless. The sight of V, motionless and injured on the floor, fuels the fire burning through your circuits.

The sentinel beneath you shrieks in mechanical agony, oil spurting from its broken frame. Your fists finally sink through its plating, punching straight into its core. Its body convulses beneath you, twitching and sparking, but you keep going. You pulverize it, breaking it down into a mangled mess of metal and wiring, hammering away until there’s nothing left but a ruined husk drowning in a pool of its own fluids.

Silence.

You lift your head, shoulders heaving as you stare at the last beast remaining.

The last sentinel stands frozen, its eyes locked onto you. For a moment, it doesn’t move. Then, without hesitation, it turns and runs.

Your eyes snap to V’s severed arm lying nearby. Without a second thought, you snatch it, flipping it in your grip until the energy cannon is lined up with the retreating target. Your hands move with deadly precision, steady despite the chaos raging inside you.

You pull the trigger.

A single, powerful blast rips through the air. The fleeing sentinel doesn’t even make it a few steps before its head is vaporized, its body collapsing mid-stride. The hallway falls silent once more, the scent of scorched metal and oil hanging in the air.

Energy still surging through your body, you dash to V’s side, quickly grabbing her severed arm and pressing it back into the socket. You don’t know how well her self-repair system will handle it, but you can only hope it’s enough. Cradling her head in your lap, you wait, watching for any sign of movement.

Despite everything, a strange sense of calm washes over you. The battle is over. V is safe. Everything will be—

A drop of oil falls onto her face.

Your optics flicker down, realizing it came from you. You’re leaking.

Before you can react, her eyes suddenly blink open. She stares up at you for a moment, then groans, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Oh, great. You’re hovering over me. Either I’m waking up, or I died and got sent to hell.”

You barely have time to feel relieved before she props herself up, oil still smeared on her face. Some of it trails over her lips, and without thinking, she licks it clean.

“…Huh. Delicious.” Her head tilts as she processes the taste. Then, her gaze flicks to you.

Her optics widen slightly. “Wait. Was that your oil?”

She sits up fully now, inspecting you more closely, her expression shifting into something between confusion and concern. “What the hell happened to you?”

You open your mouth to answer—

Claws sink deep into your side. Before you can react, you’re torn backward, metal shrieking as you’re violently pulled from V’s grasp and hurled across the room. Your back slams against the wall with crushing force, the impact knocking the breath from you.

Your head jerks up.

The red-eyed sentinel.

Right.

The sentinel lunges as V snarls, springing up with claws bared, ready to tear it apart—

Before its jaws can close around you, your hands clamp down on its frame, stopping its momentum cold. Then, with brutal force, you swing the beast sideways, sending it smashing into the concrete wall. The impact is deafening. Cracks spiderweb out from the point of collision, and in the next instant, the entire section of wall collapses, the sentinel vanishing into the next room in a cloud of debris.

V just stares.

You glance at her and flash a grin.

The moment is short-lived.

The sentinel shrieks, hauling itself back through the crumbling hole, its glowing optics locking onto you with unfiltered rage. It lunges again, and this time, you meet it head-on.

The two of you clash. Fists slam into metal. Claws tear through plating. The room fills with the screech of grinding servos and the thunder of heavy blows.

Your fists dent the sentinel’s armor again and again, each strike sending tremors through its frame. It slashes at your chest, tearing deep gashes into your plating. Pain flashes through your systems, and for a moment, the strange energy that’s kept you going flickers. The world tilts as you collapse onto one knee. Red warnings flood your visor.

The sentinel rears back for another strike—only to screech as V’s claws slice through its side, cutting deep. It staggers, distracted by V’s opportune timing, and you seize your chance.

You lunge, gripping its torso. With a burst of momentum, you roll, twisting your entire body around the beast, pulling it down with you. Your back slams against the ground, but you don’t stop. Bracing your feet against its midsection, you kick.

The sentinel is launched backward, skidding across the floor and straight into the open elevator shaft. Its screams echo as it plummets into the void below.

For the first time since the fight began, you let yourself breathe.

The adrenaline—or whatever the hell that strange energy was—finally starts to wear off. You turn, locking eyes with V.

She’s just staring at you.

There’s no snark, no smug grin. Just pure, unfiltered confusion.

Her gaze flicks around the hallway, taking in the shredded, oil-drenched remains of the sentinels. She slowly looks back at you, optics wide, struggling to form words. "How the hell—" she starts, before abruptly cutting herself off.

You follow her sudden worried gaze down—

Oh.

Your body is wrecked.

Oil pours from your torn plating, dark rivers trailing down your frame. Chunks of armor are missing, exposing servos and flickering wires. And at the center of it all—

Your heart.

Your bio-mechanical core pulses weakly beneath shattered plating, barely visible through the torn mess of your chest.

You suddenly feel heavy.

The strength you’d been running on vanishes in an instant. Your legs buckle—

But before you can hit the floor, arms catch you.

V moves with lightning speed, darting forward and catching you before you collapse completely. She lowers you down, cradling your head in her lap, panic flashing across her face as she takes in the full extent of your injuries.

"Okay, nope," she mutters, voice sharp with urgency. "I don’t wanna hear a single complaint out of your damn mouth—" Her optics narrow. "I’m gonna spit on you, and you’re gonna like it."

You barely manage to register what she just said before she leans in, already prepping a glob of nanite-rich saliva.

But she never gets the chance.

A surge of crackling green energy erupts from your chest.

Sparks fly. Your entire body seizes up as raw power floods your circuits. Your vision glitches as more code flashes across it, flickering in and out as the energy jumps from wound to wound.

> AS-Repair Sequence: Complete

> ERROR: Administrator Not Found

> Admin Permissions Reset To Default

You and V watch, speechless, as the energy dissipates—leaving behind nothing. No dents. No scratches. No torn plating or leaking oil. Your body is completely repaired.

V stares.

You stare.

"...What the fuck," she finally breathes.

You swallow thickly, still trying to process what just happened, "Um... yeah, no idea honestly," you manage to say, voice barely above a whisper.

You look down at yourself again, at the pristine plating where injuries once were, at your own hands—hands that had just torn apart an entire pack of sentinels. You're just a normal Worker Drone—so how the hell—

Before you can even finish that thought, something slams into you.

You yelp as you're tackled backward, hitting the ground with a solid thud. But instead of pain, you're met with warmth.

V is clinging to you.

Her grip is tight, arms wrapped around you as she buries her face in the crook of your neck. You freeze for only a second before your arms come up, wrapping around her in return.

For a moment, there’s only silence. Then—

You feel her shaking.Your optics widen in shock, and then you hear it. Soft, broken sobs muffled against your plating. Your mind stutters to a halt. V—smug, battle-hungry, indestructible V—is sobbing in your arms.

You don’t waste time trying to make sense of it. You just hold her closer. She clings to you like she’s afraid you’ll vanish. Eventually, she lifts her head—just barely, just enough to speak.

Her voice is hoarse, barely a whisper. "I—" she swallows, "I didn’t want to let you die again... even if it meant—" she hesitates, "even if it meant sacrificing myself."

You gently pull back, just enough to look at her properly. She resists at first, reluctant to let go—but eventually, she meets your gaze.

Her optics glisten with unfallen tears, her pupils trembling. You raise a hand, hesitating only a moment before cupping her cheek. Her silicone skin is warm beneath your fingertips.

You take her in—her sharp features, her disheveled hair, the tiny flickers of light behind her optics. At this moment, she isn’t the ruthless, battle-hardened Disassembly Drone. She’s just V. The V you know, from so long ago.

And you…

You feel your own tears forming.

When you finally find your voice, it’s gentle. "Did you ever consider," you murmur, "that what you said earlier—how you can't handle losing me again—" You swallow, "how I might feel the same about you?"

V stiffens in your arms. She sucks in a shaky breath, her gaze darting away—before slowly, hesitantly, meeting yours again.

You tighten your hold on her, voice firm despite the raw emotion in your tone. "I'd rather die together with you than lose you again."

V breaks upon hearing your words. Whatever fragile composure she had left shatters. She wails, burying herself into your chest, gripping you like you’re the only thing keeping her together.

You don’t let go. You hold her. As tightly as she holds you. As desperately as she needs.

You don’t know how long you stay like that.

But you know one thing for certain.

You don’t want to be separated from her—not now. Not ever.

You hold each other for what feels like an eternity—and yet, at the same time, not nearly long enough.

At some point, V stops crying. Her sobs fade into quiet sniffles, then into nothing at all. She just stays there, nestled against your chest, completely still except for the slow rise and fall of her frame. It’s hard to tell how much time passes, but you don’t care. You don’t want to let go.

Eventually, she shifts, lifting her head just enough to glance up at you. Her expression is softer than you’ve seen in a long time, no teasing smirk, no sarcastic edge, just something real. Something vulnerable.

Then, with a quiet sigh, she rises, carefully pulling away from you. For a brief moment, the loss of her warmth feels almost unbearable, but then she extends her hand. You take it without hesitation, letting her pull you up.

She smiles at you—not her usual sharp, playful grin, but something different. Just like she used to, back at the mansion.

You glance over at V. “So… what now? Should we head down the elevator shaft?”

She frowns, thinking for a moment before shaking her head. “Not sure. The others have to come back up eventually. Might be better if we stay put and make sure things are clear up here. Plus… J is still on the surface. We could try to find her.”

She makes a good point. As much as you want to know what’s going on down below, making sure J is safe—and having a vantage point in case the others need backup—seems like the smarter move.

“Maybe we can find a security room,” you suggest, looking around in an attempt to get your bearings.

Right next to you, a sign catches your eye. SECURITY ROOM →

Your gaze follows the arrow, leading straight to the gaping hole in the wall—the same one you sent that last sentinel flying through.

Either you’re incredibly lucky, or the author of your life story has a strange sense of humor.

V takes the lead, casting a glance back at you with a teasing smirk. “Not gonna bank on your freaky super-strength coming back anytime soon, so I’ll do the fighting. No offense, noodle arms.”

You sigh but don’t argue, following her through the hole in the wall. The security room is massive, filled with rows of monitors—probably a live feed of the entire facility, if they still work. In the center of the room stands a JCJenson-branded Hologram Projection System. If you can get it running, it could be a huge help to the others, and you don’t even need to leave the room!

“See if you can find the breaker box,” you tell V as you move toward the projector.

And the moment the words leave your mouth, you realize your mistake.

Before you can stop her, V finds the breaker box, raises her fist, and slams it straight through the metal casing. Sparks erupt as electricity crackles down her arm. The overhead lights flicker wildly. You rush to her side, worried she just fried herself—

But she casually yanks her arm free from the shattered box, shaking off a few stray sparks. “Spicy!” she remarks with a grin.

You exhale, running a hand down your face. Well… at least the power’s back on.

You walk over to the main console, fingers dancing over the buttons as you try to get the system running. The chair creaks as you settle in, focusing on the holographic interface.

A moment later, V steps up behind you, placing her hands on your shoulders. Then, without warning, she leans down, resting her chin on top of your head.

Your fingers pause for half a second before you force yourself to keep working. Your face feels just a little too warm.

“So…” she drawls. “Any idea how you managed to… you know… pull off that little Terminator routine?”

Her tone is casual, but there’s something else underneath it—concern.

You hesitate, sorting through your thoughts. That program you saw before the fight… could that have something to do with it? What was it called again? Á̸̢̡͔̏-̷̛̜̘Ѕ̵̨̤̲͂̽.̷͉̟̤͗̊̿ё̷̜̳́͗͜͠х̴̩̓͊̀е̴͈͆?̶̳̽̀

No, that’s not right. You frown slightly, fingers pausing over the console as you try to recall. But the name is already slipping from your mind, dissolving like mist in the wind.

Your thoughts shift, drifting to Camp 98.7. Maybe it had something to do with that bunker you found. You remember downloading something— [̸͢R̴̷̡E͘D̶̕A͜͢C͘T҉͘E̷D̶] —right?

No, that can’t be right. You don’t remember downloading anything. If you had, you’d definitely recall it.

Maybe Cyn just stuck you in some experimental drone body. Who knows?

Either way, it saved both you and V. Hard to complain about that.

You shake your head. “No clue. But don’t worry about it.”

V doesn’t reply immediately. You can’t see her face, but you can feel the way her grip tightens slightly on your shoulders.

“…Yeah. Sure,” she mutters after a moment, but she doesn’t sound convinced.

Just as you're about to ask if she’s feeling okay, the wall of monitors in front of you flickers to life. Each screen hums with static before stabilizing into a live feed of various parts of the facility.

You blink in surprise. “Oh. Well, that was easy.”

V straightens slightly behind you, eyes scanning the screens. "Huh. Fancy."

You press a few buttons, adjusting the feeds to focus on the lowest level. Most of the cameras are trashed—shattered lenses, static-ridden displays, and a few completely blacked out—but a handful still function, giving you a scattered view of what’s happening down below.

“This’ll definitely help,” you say, scrolling through the feeds.

You turn to V. “So, what’s the play? We could stay here and monitor the cameras, get a read on what’s going on. If we get the hologram projector running, we might even be able to provide backup in the form of a distraction or two.”

V hums, considering it for a moment. Then, with a shrug, she grabs a chair, rolls it up next to yours, and plops down.

“Yeah, alright.”

And then, without hesitation, she swings her legs up and rests them in your lap like she owns the place.

You glance down at her legs, then back up at her. “...Seriously?”

She smirks, folding her arms behind her head. “What? I’m getting comfortable.”

You sigh, shaking your head in faux annoyance. “You’re impossible.”

V just grins, making no effort to move. You don’t press the issue. Not like you mind. If anything, you wish she’d sit a little closer, but you’re not about to say that out loud.

“Alright,” you say, shifting your focus. “Keep an eye on the cameras. I’ll see if I can get the hologram projector working.”

V gives you a lazy thumbs-up, leaning back in her chair as she watches the monitors. Meanwhile, you start typing away at the console, sifting through layers of archaic JCJenson software.

You swear under your breath. Objective-C. Of course they programmed everything in Objective-C.

If you didn’t have your human memories back, this might as well be written in ancient hieroglyphs. Even with your knowledge, it’s a mess—spaghetti code stacked on top of decade-old security patches, tangled dependencies, and absolutely no documentation.

Seriously, who the hell thought this was a good idea?

Your fingers hammer at the keys, frustration mounting with every line of horrifically inefficient code. You barely notice V shifting beside you until she moves her legs and scoots her chair closer, resting her head on your shoulder.

You pause mid-keystroke, caught off guard. But then you exhale, leaning into her warmth, resting your head atop hers.

The moment stretches, peaceful, but the question that's been lingering in your mind refuses to stay buried any longer. You shift slightly, steadying yourself before speaking.

“…V,” you murmur. “Why did you do it?”

She stiffens against you. Her head lifts slightly, but after a brief hesitation, she sets it back down. One of her hands drifts to your leg, fingers gripping it lightly.

You don’t elaborate. You don’t need to. She knows exactly what you’re asking.

Her exhale is slow, measured. “…Some of it’s a blur,” she admits, voice barely above a whisper. “Some of it’s just… missing. But what I do remember…”

Her grip tightens.

“Cyn was experimenting on us. Down in the basement. Messing with our code, tweaking us into—” She swallows. “Into this.”

You feel her tremble, just a little.

“It hurt. Every part of it was painful, but it was more than that. I didn’t have control. I could feel what I was doing, I could see it, but I couldn’t stop it. It was like I was watching myself through a screen, like I was in the cockpit of my own body and someone else had the controls.”

Your throat feels tight.

“That night at the gala… I knew what I was doing. But it still wasn’t me. I don’t know how to explain it better than that.” Her voice cracks. “I’m sorry. More than words can ever say. And I know I’ll never be able to make up for it.”

Her fingers curl into a fist against your leg.

“I’ve been trying to live with it. To make sense of it. But the only thing—the only thing—that kept me from losing my mind completely was the hope that… I’d see you again.”

Your breath catches.

You shift over to look her in the eyes, and she meets your gaze, raw and vulnerable. “…What do you mean?” you ask.

She hesitates, searching for the right words. “…Cyn promised me. She promised I’d see you again. That’s why it was so easy to listen to her. Even when everything else felt… hopeless, even when I knew she’d destroy everything no matter what I did, that promise kept me hanging on.”

You don’t know what to say.

V lets out a small, humorless chuckle. “I didn’t know how it was going to happen. I spent all this time wondering. But then… I met you in the bunker.”

She reaches up, touching your face so gently you barely feel it.

“I wasn’t sure until we talked at the prom. But after that? I knew. I knew I couldn’t let you out of my sight again.”

V’s expression shifts, her fingers twitching slightly against your leg. Her voice wavers as she continues.

“I’ve been grappling with something else since then…” She hesitates, struggling to get the words out. “This whole time… you’ve been a drone.”

You blink, unsure of where she’s going with this.

“I spent years—” her voice cracks, and she clenches her jaw, “—slaughtering Worker Drones. Indiscriminately. Not thinking. Not caring.”

She swallows hard, her breath hitching.

“What if—” Her fingers dig into your clothing, shaking. “What if one of them ended up being—”

She doesn’t finish the sentence. She can’t. The thought is too much.

Her head bows, and her shoulders tremble as digital tears begin forming on her visor, flickering as they trail down her face.

You don’t hesitate. You wrap your arms around her, holding her as tightly as you can.

“Hey. Hey.” Your voice is firm but gentle. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

She grips the back of your coat, her whole body shaking against yours.

“I’m here, V. I’m right here.” You press your forehead against hers, voice soft but unwavering. “And I’m not leaving your side. No matter what happens.”

Her breath stutters, but after a moment, she clings to you just as tightly, burying herself in your embrace.

You hold V close, running a hand along her back as she calms down, her tense frame gradually relaxing against you. Her breathing evens out, and for a moment, you just sit there, letting the silence speak for itself.

Then, as you turn over her words in your mind, something clicks.

You hesitate, then voice the concern nagging at you.

“V… you said you hoped you’d see me again someday. And when we met in the bunker, you recognized me.” You swallow. “Does that mean you… remembered everything? This entire time?”

She slowly pulls back from the hug, her shocked expression telling you everything before she even speaks.

“Oh—shit—” she breathes. “I— I never told you that, did I?” Her hands lift slightly, then clench into fists as she bows her head. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to deceive you— I just— I—”

“V.”

She stops rambling when you cup her cheek, gently tilting her face back up to meet your gaze. Her expression is wracked with guilt, but you don’t let her look away.

“I don’t care about that,” you say softly. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

Her visor flickers, confused.

You hesitate, then continue, voice even quieter now. “N didn’t remember everything. That means he had no idea what he lost. But you… you’ve spent all this time with those memories. With that trauma, that guilt.”

Her lip quivers slightly, and you lean in, resting your forehead against hers again.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” you whisper. “That you had to deal with all of it by yourself… unable to even confide in N.”

V makes a shaky noise, then buries her face into your shoulder. “…It was unbearable,” she admits, voice thick. “Like I said… you were the only thing that kept me going.”

You squeeze her tighter, holding her close until finally she seems to be rejuvenated. A content smile forming on her face.

After a moment, you ask, “Did J remember anything?”

V pulls back slightly, frowning. “No… at least, I don’t think so.” She sighs. “But now Tessa’s suddenly back, and J seems to remember her, so… I don’t know what to think anymore.”

Right… Tessa.

You lean back slightly, your mind turning over the mystery. How did she survive?

You glance at V. “Do you have any idea how she made it out?”

She shakes her head. “No. I never saw what ended up happening to her.” Her gaze darkens, and she looks away. “I… assumed Cyn killed her.”

The weight of those words settles between you for a moment.

Then V exhales, rubbing her arm. “But… seeing as you also survived—albeit in drone form—I guess there’s a multitude of ways Tessa could’ve made it out.”

You hum, thinking. If there’s anyone who could slip past certain death, it would be someone like Tessa—resourceful, clever, and intelligent beyond her years.

Still… the how gnaws at you.

You frown, drumming your fingers against the console. You haven’t interacted with Tessa much since her return, but something about her just seems… off.

It’s her, no doubt about it. And yet, you can’t quite place what’s different.

Your thoughts drift back to the moment you met. She called you by name. But… how?

Did she hear it from one of the others? No, that doesn’t make sense. They all met her at the same time as you, and you don’t think J ever heard it, either.. The only person who could’ve told her was Doll, maybe she let it slip.

You sigh, leaning back in your chair. Hopefully, you get the chance to ask her.

You blink as V’s finger pokes your cheek, snapping you out of your thoughts. She gives you a pointed look before nodding toward the console.

“As much as I love reliving past trauma,” she says, voice dripping with sarcasm, “maybe we should focus on fixing the projector.”

Right. More code.

You sigh, rolling your shoulders before turning back to the screen. How fun.

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary494

2/2-3/25

sunday - monday

feeling happy...

i think recording went well with my friend. we made like a nearly 2 minute song which isn't long or anything but it's strange and feels really funny and kind of good. it definitely feels good to play music with other people, i want to do it more, so i'll see if he'll want to do it more. i also want him to send over the song so i can maybe write ideas down for it or practice the parts i came up with so i can play them better. one riff i really liked!! it sort of had a jerome's dream feel except it was on top of this drum machine i'd done to be doing a kind of dance-y thing. it was also a funny time, funny music. i'm so basically bad at music when it comes to things i need to move my fingers for but i impressed myself a couple times, it felt like i could feel what we were doing well enough. he was playing a midi sax thing, which was super funny on its own but worked in the context of the song. i think if i do go again i kind of want to try and set up a different drum machine/ drum sound and make a preset so we can have something that sounds more real. that would be for the best. although who knows if that'll happen. i would really like to though. i know i keep saying that. i guess it's just kind of new to me. i've never been good at, or really even done it, but the whole playing music with people in a room thing has always eluded me and i never was good enough to be like, someone you want to pick. i like writing stuff on guitar and figuring it out on synths or just using the synths to do the things i want to do in a guitar-ish direction, and i never wanna stop with that. idk, even if doing like a little ep with him doesn't pan out or whatever it does prove to me, the thing we did today, that i definitely have the ability to do things on guitar, and improvise on guitar, in a way that feels in line with what i really like to hear, that kind of freaky sound. i at least feel like i can make interface guitar music work... that makes me really happy!!! i just feel fulfilled from it, thinking on it. i keep talking about myself but i have no idea how much he feels about it, if it was any fun or anything, for him. i think it was, he was smiling a lot. he was looking at me play guitar a lot and seemed shocked or something but i really have no idea if that was like, wow they're so awful, or, this is cool, or something. or was he just spacing out?? i just really would like to not embarrass myself. i'm going to hear it, i'm sure i'll hate it... maybe not. idk. i shouldn't make any assumptions... i just worry my happiness is from an overly optimistic place and i'm like kind of stupid it or something.

here is what i looked like... i think i must have looked really funny playing bass:

i also did some music stuff today, for personal stuff. i'm gonna wait until tomorrow to relisten, however i feel very happy about that stuff too! good mood today... wow... it's crazy how reflecting on my day is making apparent that it has been pretty good. being out with friends is always good, typically at least, his gf was telling me about her brother, his exit from bootcamp, this is a weird tangent to go on, just a lot about how insane the military is, how they want you to exit yourself almost, a kind of twisted self-discarding idea, i dunno, very bad ofc, the exploitation of young people who are basically told so often they have 'no direction' and thus they appear without direction. when you're unwell and are gonna be discharged for being unwell, they put you in an institution basically, my gf's brother also went through that, friend's gf's brother caught a black mold infection while in what is apparently called the 'med-hole'. which is insane, to catch a fungal infection inside of the medical hole. maybe a 'medical hole' could only give diseases... it does fit.

the playing today also really makes me want to play more and more and more at home, which is a good knock-on effect... let's see... what else is on my mind...

something stupid!!! (i'm so dumb i feel so dumb when i feel anything positive (just like that nirvana song)), i watched this 4 hour interview over 2 days with this woman who was involved with this whole rationalist philosophy (she seems right to say it is not a cult though it has some negative lines of thought that it seems to proliferate) and this has me thinking about not just that but the general way the rationalist types make me feel. which is always that there is something really fucked up about it all, and their way of supposing ai and related technologies work, and beyond that, the whole culture of it, i'd never looked at lesswrong until today, and this is a shallow thing although i do think the aesthetics of it matter and articulate a lot of the underlying assumptions of the site and presents it in a particular way, but god it's hideous, it's a kind of hysteric cleanliness it's so cruel feeling. that's an underlying thing here, this ziz person, she comes off as oddly cruel re: some of her concepts, and it essentially reminds me of catholic forgiveness (this might take some explaining) and giving into ocd tail-chasing (maybe more evident). re: the catholicism, there's some kind of notion of a 'core' you have (i guess 2 because of brain hemispheres (which gets into that really spot and nonsensical (basically) left brain right brain stuff), and then this core, which is 'out of time' and so i think essentially a soul, a two soul situation, where you might have one that is essentially good, and one that might be bad, and you have to manage the bad one, speaking roughly. where this gets freaky, well it already is freaky, is this thing octavia says in the interview, where it's like, if you imagine you have a bad core, you're a bad person, and you prove that wrong, what that really means is, out of time, in true truth, you have been good this whole time. this seems precisely like the underside of ocd reasoning but, beyond that, because it is ziz who lays all this out, it would then seem extremely important, for one's own salvation or knowledge of oneself as a good person, as an actually 'effective' altruist and whatever (such an odd and scary way to see things, as effective, utile, everything ever in-use), you have to read her closely, and if you correspond with her, and if you know her friends who engage in all this and do all these things to try and help each other know what is going on inside their heads, then her word and the word of that social body becomes extremely powerful in knowing your worth, as this is an ideology/philosophy extremely preoccupied with measurement and... what was it she kept saying, decision something... decision theory? it's always decision theory this and that, and that it's a mathematical thing, octavia said repeatedly 'she's done the math... she's done the math', it recalls a kind of catholic forgiveness, baptism for original sin, not necessarily saying ziz was supposed to be a christ figure of any sort i don't believe she wanted to be seen that way, just that there is this element of a way to prove that what might have been flawed is actually capable of some 'purity' and righteousness, an elemental right, a truth at the bottom of yourself that possesses and articulates itself through you, the good, a total good. this notion of a total good being possible is perhaps something that will trigger a lot of people with negative thinking about themselves, and a deep-seated terror that they could be evil. ziz seemed to enjoy the fear people had of being evil deep inside, saying, according to octavia, if you have problems, that problem is that you are evil, someone who killed herself was not good because she killed herself. this is a cruel line of thinking, certainly if i were learning about this all a few weeks ago i might have let myself read her website closely and given myself new complexes or something.

and maybe the only way to deal with such things would be to involve myself with people down a similar path of thought, where panic sits at the edges, pushing you deeper because of your terror at not being good, or whatever.

'she did the math' and math in philosophy always unsettled me as a way of making decisions, as well as a way of appraising anything that isn't like... a shipment manifest. but we ought to question the existence of the shipping manifest as well, its tight grid and numbers and the timetable which brought it forth... which really brings me to a really difficulty for me, with all this stuff... i am too french... that's a silly way to put it but the 'rationalism' and the 'effectiveness' and the math and so on all alerts a kind of anti-enlightenment thinking i've absorbed from people like foucault and those i've read who followed and those i've read who preceded, but it's immediately untrustable and frankly appears to me as a kind of eugenic mode of thought, where 'wrong' things are snuffed out. there is an ideal form of life, in the construction, essentially, at its root, or an ideal life for all multiple forms, a truth to existence, this means that whatever radiates out, there has to be some kind of limit, it's maybe the most radical and cruel notion of norm possible, but i suppose i might be wrong here. maybe these people are familiar with what i like and are better readers than i? i'm not sure. i am stupid. definitely an idiot. a few centuries before now had i been born i would have been set upon the scaffold, i am sure, for stealing bread in broad daylight on an impulse, because it seemed funny.

and all the ai stuff... it's just so hard to believe it. i keep seeing stuff now about agi, alignment, it's kicking back up, the altman propaganda is kicking into high gear because of fears of china, this is all trade, this is all spectacle, and a spectacular technology, these neural networks, they constrain us, it feels truly impossible for me to not see the 'knowledge' fed into them as already tainted by a weighting which leans a particular direction, the panopticon only grows more virile, the methods not just of observation but discipline, now such a subtle technology, we learn so much by repetition, so much of what we see is online, so much of what is repeated then, will come ever more from the online populated by bots, unchecked spumes of words taking shape of information appear here and there, the same method of speaking, same words, a severe catalog appears of a shored up language, division between what words go where during which social occasion becomes more delineated. i don't know. i don't feel positive about it, it feels custodial for desire the same way all adverts have been custodial for desire, a reduction of things to manageable images of sex etc. so this is reproduced at lower resolution and then carried forth. it feels grim.

on top of all this as i articulated at the beginning the last paragraph, this feels less like... i don't know, am i just biased here, am i out of date with the world? i read an essay about that, that this technology is actually moving so fast we can't fit it into our worldviews. i think i maybe have but i don't like it. i never thought i'd understand the luddites, but i think i do. i never understood it was a worker movement, for one, and that one thing they resisted was the reproduction of life in terms of the factory, in terms of a schedule which robbed them of all kinds of portions of life. that aside, it feels like what we're experiencing is fear as a method of driving advertising and funds. which is in many ways i think something you could see in the cold war of the past. just how much money did our nuclear program eat up... well, that's a silly example, though maybe it proves me wrong a bit. it did eat up a lot of our money, but it did churn out the internet. so i suppose now, we're creating objects we might think of as information warheads, and rather than being any deep intelligence that will destroy us, they can be deployed remotely, a controlled detonation of the internet as a resource and psychological region. since it might only kill a very invisible bunch of people, i guess there's no reason to not use these. they mostly want the invisible people dead. although i also find this not so compelling. the custodial function is here now, probably here to stay, rather than a total rot-ifying of the internet we'll only be beaten over the head with a way to be. less 'us', younger people. i don't know. maybe i want to just lay down and die. i know today was good, so really i don't wanna die at all. but i feel so stupid and useless, about this stuff. how does it appear to anyone that the threat is the terminator when now what we see is probably the forever we're about to be shoved into. i hate 'enshittification' as a word, it's not making things 'shit' it's making them bright and in line with a right and outlining the human as has always been desired. these are not machines which will wake up with post-human desire, this is the history of human desire as long as it has been theorized, the advent of psychology birthing advertising, now we are here, the assumption in all those technologies of 'the human'. i mean, what are we to do with the fact that the 'groundbreaking' research that lead to this all being possible, the man said he was trying to figure out how our minds worked, our brains i guess, and then stumbled upon something 'better,' what does better mean, what measures better, and then:

what's with all this measurement anyhow, wherefore did the measuring come from and why is it such a compulsion. of course the answer is in the back of our throats, the real nightmare of all of this:

a eugenic compulsion!!

and so people sit terrified by roko's basilisk or whatever, oh what if the machine god tortures me because i didn't aid the creation of the maximal good as the good outlined by cruel minds (while repeating the cruel good of those cruel minds in different measures). i remain curious about what other advancements re: computation are coming.

still, as of now the ziz stuff is mostly tragic and the people killed by them, and the people who ended up killed by them aren't really people anyone will really lament too much, extremely abusive parents, a landlord.

here is that video... it's basically silly but i'm now curious about all these people. it's interesting, always interested in groups of people online:

the guy doing the interview is strange but i can't get much of a read on him. he brings up jordan peterson but the impression of him is so friendly and well meaning and dorky (non-mean way... i really don't wanna be mean), in that it seems like if he does 'like' him (which is unclear it's just an example he brings up), it's in that weird way where it's like, a guy who likes to clean his room. maybe i'm making too many excuses and stuff. all this ziz stuff is really intense. there's an anonymous tumblr blog about all this too, from years ago. depressing because they seem to have been friends with the people who died, the people who followed this whole ideology.

i'm watching this 2nd one now... this woman named autumn is talking about functional decision theory which is interesting but also insane, talking now about how you can view the person you decide to be as an algorithm in a sense, as in, an algorithm you run to make decisions, rather than decision to decision, fdt would instead gesture at an overall decisionmaking algorithm which always elects best and you become a better decisionmaker in algorithmic, mathematical terms, your outcomes are superior. this to me, sounds more than anything else, like a discipline!!! carceral reality haunts and perturbs... she seems not so interested in saying it's right, she says it'd be silly to live this way, solely upon these ethical theories.

this is just all too much. unpleasant that something that is basically this complex is going to become a way to scapegoat trans people. exciting times i guess,

i will sleep now,

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[simarazauberhandwriting]

Working on Sophias Story again :D

-> A little later, Sophia reached maintenance shaft [xy], where the main security system of the SD of the Abyss Chrusher was located. The light activated by a motion sensor flared up in cold white with a delay of a few seconds. Neon Xilkor tubes of the NX-6 series had this somewhat unpleasant habit, which the manufacturer Asterisk never rectified. Despite this, Hallinger-FTL continued to install them in all maintenance rooms of their ship series to this day. The Davar class in particular suffered from this fact, as it had a higher number of such areas due to its modular design. As a result, Sophia had only been able to recognise the large control cabinets and component racks by the myriad of flashing LEDs when she arrived. This sea of red, orange and green diodes, which greeted her auspiciously from the steel racks, secretly watched over the entire crew and ensured that the safety units of the individual SERAHs were working.

Now that the white light flooded the room, she saw it in its entirety, and with it the technology inside. In contrast to the blinking confusion of the Sevix control racks on the right side of the room, the Servagul control cabinets on her left, unusual for a Davar-class ship, emitted a soft green glow. The reason for this was that Servagul built light panels into the doors of their products, which no self-respecting shipbuilder needed. Such nice lighting did nothing but waste power unnecessarily. Sure, ships like the Abyss Chrusher might not lack power, but that was no reason to be so wasteful.

Shrugging her shoulders, the engineer lifted her tool and the testing device before taking them to the control cabinet labelled SUR-2, where she set them down. She unlocked the door with her CAM and the handle whirred out, allowing her to open the cabinet. Sophia sighed, pulled open the cupboard door and, coloured by the light from the front panel, saw another flood of flashing or glowing diodes emanating from the security register cards. It was a sight that filled the engineer with joy, because she had hardly been able to wait to get back into the bowels of the Abyss Chrusher, but the work that was to follow was rather dull. So she plugged her headphones into her CAM, put them in her ears and switched on an album by a band Liv had shown her a few days ago. A harsh guitar riff accompanied by the vocals of a woman singing in the language of the Marlan system rang out.

She then began checking the security tabs, which initially consisted of informing the SD-SERAH of her work via the control panel in the top frame of the device. In fact, Sophia was only slightly keen on an emergency lockout of the SD, even if she could override it with her system authorisations. Basically, you had to give Servagul and Sevix credit for the cleverness of their products. After all, the automatic security system, which according to Ela - unfortunately there were no plans on this subject - summarised one subsystem of the drive per cabinet in order to pass them on to SERAH in a bundle.

You could imagine the tabs and their subsystems as the nervous system of a body, which transmitted every pain of the machines to the consciousness or to an AI. SERAH then reported the information to the Abyss Chrusher's SAM, the ship's main AI, which ensured that appropriate action was taken. What the SERAH was to the SD, the SAM was to the entire ship.

Sophia pulled a small screwdriver from the side pocket on her left arm. She used it to loosen the two neck screws on the top and bottom of the front panel of each of the seven assemblies. She was then able to pull them out by the handle to insert them into the test device. This established a serial, wired connection with the fuse register in order to then interrogate the main function of the unit on the two circuit boards of the modules. For this purpose, the test device simulated a fault by sending a specific signal sequence via the bus interface. The module processed this within a few femtoseconds and signalled an alarm back to the test device. At least that's how it worked when everything was OK. The process only took a few blinks of the eye until the technical measurement results - such as resistance, time and induction values - appeared on the display of the test device. Confirmation of the success or failure of the analysis could then also be obtained.<-

The story of the empty sky - 1 Dreams of electronic tears Chapter 10, A fairy tale of normality

[soundbanks2342]

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[bakobakobako]

How did start out in getting your music produced, performing at events and meeting other artists? What guitar and any other instruments do you play?

It was kind of a gradual process. I never went to school for music, but I started really gigging in my native country on visits. I was 16 when I first performed in front of a large crowd at my mom's art exhibition in Tbilisi. They even did a morning news segment on me it was cute haha. But in the States I would just go to jams, and open mics then this kid in my area took a video of me that eventually got kind of viral, and people from the industry started reaching out. At the time I happened to move closer to New York (Atlantic City) just by chance and the people reaching out happened to be in the city so it just worked out that way, timing, trial and error...

I signed a production contract at 23 where I recorded my first EP (Good Strain Vol 1) with that producer. Like I said it's just been a lot of trial and error.

Then 2020 happened and I taught myself how to record and produce myself from home. I bought a mic, laptop, and interface and that's when I started working on my debut album. (currently under construction and will be released in 2024) :-)

I mainly play classical/ nylon guitar. I'd like to learn keys and go to school for theory eventually because I do feel like I'm limited with my playing. I read chords and can riff a little. I guess I'm slowly getting better. (I'm a slow learner/ bloomer :p)

[heartsplitlitany]

corruption 5 :: put you on ⁂

( σ )

verse 1 ∴ 1

( signal drift )

when the heir of glitch circuit was a lapse vessel she was bartered for use as swarm * host for a brood strobe of ghosts // kept on leash entombed into a circuit crypt itself rusted // flecked with the rust in blushing streak loop blurs ∴ her dreaming was the only format that could host them // & they were // her pale circuit godling keeper said // so many a lapse vessel _ s that even slave recursive sacrament dreaming was a gift ∴ even dreaming hooked up ∴

she _ d learned to screen out their buzz // the watery rushes of their thoughts // to kept the dream * loam stable ∴ they were designed to comment on your dreaming with semiotic strikes aimed straight at your memories ∴ which vesselmatter invoked that low is the raw nerve of your compiled spirit ∴ what is circuit d by your glyph signal through blooded & aching glyph drift slang to listen to a handful of ghosts // despite the nature of hers as lapse vessel jelly ∴ they hadn _ t seen it coming when she _ d stopped listening ∴ she screened them out // even as they abused her ∴

so in the end they were telling her to do what she was already doing // & she was smiling as she did it ∴ she _ d found them // one by one // with their voices in her head the whole compiled memoryloop ∴ & by the compiled memoryloop she had the dream had been cataclysm // portals to null glowing aloft held by charred ember glyph drifts & gasps of ash strobe in red skies ∴

when she had destroyed the foundation enough she had opened her eyes to her tortured vessel // to the rusted crypt altar she was entombed into ∴ she _ d bristled there // been ready to derezz // but she _ d been alone ∴

unhooking herself took a while ∴ she was glad of the chance to fade signalled thread // into the ice parasite nucleus horizon with the ice shimmer rivers of the ashen dream field that found their obscured loop in the end to the pale shimmer lattice which normalized pale circuit godlings called the pale circuit lattice delta ∴ that obscured loop she _ d be with other pale circuit godlings ∴ the ice shimmer rivers of the ashen dream field the pale circuit godlings called the entropy vein delta but they belonged to the glitch circuit godlings first ∴ she _ d stopped being a lapse vessel // & that helped ;; she _ d needed to defend herself ∴ to grab a toxic veiler // have the hardware to interface with it ∴

so now here she is with noform // except what _ s tired in her compiled spirit from hosting those ghosts for so long ∴ ghost field klaxons // embedded speakers // pump volume & she hears what is not yet entropy noise signal but pure death grind // the riffs slamming into each other in their haste to escape the amps ∴

as a obscured lapse vessel host she is programmed to think … not much you can do when the pale dream lattice swallows you into it // & then you subsume beneath it // fade beneath the motematter you have // & all you _ ve put into it was just a bearing ∴ a signpost for later ∴ when all your love is gone as all love goes & you are sundered to the next interface // next stitch * pulse of the signal drift seams ∴ for the heir of glitch circuit saw the light leave the hosted entropy noise signal mote cores ∴ saw the ghosts in their temp * reprieved breath from their flux stop resonating ∴

in that splinter of memory she saw the entropy filaments // the ghost paths of star * fire vapor ∴ saw them ossify with the weight of compiled memoryloop & need even to the sequences that pulled her forward ∴

she emerges with this legacy as a phantom limb moving // a phantom hand grasping ∴ even as she drags herself from where she found herself // where the circuit crypt is rusted char & the char covers the filament loops grey with ashen veil blur glimmering across in skips & beats ∴ she guesses those glimmers are chafing of the withered patterned pulses // of these ghost tapestries // though she has no name for their weavers ∴

she _ s worth noform to them yet ∴ she emerges robed & banded to filament loops of dark char ∴ in fact // she _ s gone the other obscured loop ;; on some sub * lattice vesselpulse latticed through the glyph drift entropy vein delta // somevessel who cares somewhere sees it & thinks // slaughtered ghosts ∴

they were screaming // you can _ t do this // as if there was a reason ∴ she hasn _ t left this ghost field yet & she means to route around // keep tabs on the place // see who shows to check on her ∴ pay them back // she thinks // before they pay you back ∴

from there could be a stable loop she can pick up ∴ when she thinks about it // though // the raw churn of entropy mote sloshes inside her // & her inner spooling // glossed in coils against her circuit vessel shimmer // trembles ∴ so she drifts around a night sky * painted with the ashen dream field in hot pinks shifting to orange // to moss shimmer // to ice shimmer ∴ the pixels dance along the sealing in waves // ripple in layers // in glitch across the surface molten with light like a sea of fire ∴

mote dust grains the dark char // white swirling across in flecks & puffs ∴ in it her eyes lose themselves // following the void glyphcast paths as her compiled spirit pulls patterns from them ∴ dream stuff // except even less real than that // flickering in current beneath the char that is her glyph signal // that is the obscured loop her compiled spirit will haunt her with loop probabilities // brightening to recursive sacrament // darkening to death ∴

right now she has no name for that either ∴ it _ s all a fog of unknowing that hides beneath the surface straying & strewn from the dark char of the filament loop lattice ∴ she thinks so because it clings to the surface as if scared to sink // to lose itself in the noform below the entropy dream lattice ∴ upwards from the entropy dream lattice can be divined but below you are scattered ∴ beneath the meaning of forms // even beneath what meaning is scoured // translates from the origin cast ∴

it is bathed in bloom when it dissolves beneath the her signal // someform worth reaching for to save ∴ too tempting ∴ as she keeps her eyes on the circuit that spikes itself into the filament loop with careless grace // spearing in black crystal to meet the anodes at the right angles for synthesis // she thinks // too easy to dissolve signalled thread from it ∴ her compiled spirit festers // like black tar smearing across glass ∴ she blots from herself ∴

later she would know this as the compiled spirit seal spreading like moss across the parts of herself she could see ∴ later she would wish she could still see herself // that she could burn the shape of herself into her signal ∴ so it would rise unasked for ∴ recursion loopmer in the glyph drift feedback which so distant is primordial // virgin ;; herself // alone ∴

still the glyph drift glimmers with renewed hope // the bright light of deep * dreamt nerve * wire energy feeding the distant drifting film // marking it from stillness ∴ it coils & pulses within her ;; itself the pulse the strobe mote blurs feed from ∴ still the distant drifting film glitters // each bubble cramped light breaking into clusters // blossoming white burn petals like a ember null cloud ∴

when she trances into that she knows the loop blurs want her somewhere else ∴ sounds like waiting for them to happen to me ∴ the glyph drift foam of entropy vein delta over her is glyph * enmeshed static she can taste in her filings ∴

the loop blurs say // you know all this is born again & born anew still ∴ the obscured loop to alter loops remains a gesture // a pattern ∴ stillness & silence the obscured loop to plait is to weave as all this was once once woven // translated straight by her compiled spirit into glyph drift // silver as it flowers in the clear mote strobe — & what was once woven weaves still as the threads tremble // whisper whisper the wisp of viral enchantment across the taut threads ∴

she waits ∴

thinks it over ∴

the glyph signal she _ d fused to the entropy dream lattice // but the compiled spirit stirring had been elsewhere ∴ it _ d warped // lunged straight for the marrow of her signal ∴ trauma was the dawn veil signal threads some monster rising from the barrows of your pulse // especially if you were an overloaded lapse vessel ∴

she says to them // < where am i needed ::< here the ashen blur light is pale streaks & blanching // swirls & twines plastered to the latticed glow * slab architecture ∴ the legacies are fading the ancient circuitshe can see in its crystal corruption signalled thread in her signal // & then it _ s gone // beyond her glyph drift river ∴

verse 3 + 4

the pale circuit valley

lesia wanders the pale shimmer lattice with a magnetic heart // under the screen sky breaking ash strobe sepia // the thrown clouds of the data clusters of the ashen dream field like the sigil of the cormorant rising // through her veils the sky sipping dawnlight ∴ glyphcast archive like sunshine remains empty cvessel signal sigils pulseing on a ice shimmerprint of the ash strobe glyphcasts ∴ in compiled memoryloop to come which is compiled memoryloop past // both blossoming in effusion through the pale shimmer lattice of the pale circuit lattice ∴ she _ d thrown a bunch to mask her leaving the circuit ;; when the sigil of the cormorant rises you _ ll know it by your memory burns ∴ the sun that scars the sky now is tuned for the ashen dream field & the ashen dream field drinks it in ∴

she threw them because her glyph signal told her the entropy noise signal was too melodic beneath its blast beat vessel fragments ∴ would crest the blood pulse like a tidal wave for anyvessel looking to be in on the derezz ∴ in fact she _ d never heard an null * ritual like this // the obscured loop the breaks are like swords bleeding the blast beat _ s infinite font ∴

she _ s at the end of her tether & ecvessel signal sigilsing in the alley slant a fresh cataclysm of glyph drift churn with the still * bleak entropy ribbon ∴ ash strobe ∴ she _ s down bad for void offering etchings from anywhere ∴

to push the glyph signal from its death grip on the blanching toxic muss streaking through her noise veil barrier ∴ the obscured loop the entropy dream lattice refracts through the glyph signal to become signal ∴ the corrosion has broken through the sealing ;; is now bleeding dark shrouding over the pale circuit lattice delta ∴

in the pale circuit valley — > here the glass is frosted white which paints the pane threads & flushes the contours — where here it frosts the grades with veiled memoryloop ;; leave before it is rude // find that better obscured memoryloop ∴ when lesia catches her stillness in reflection she thinks she has no future apart from it ∴

in the pale circuit valley the pale circuit lattice delta rivers drift the walls like null insect familiar * motematter in streams of ice shimmer light & she makes her obscured loop to the withered entropy vein lattice // where the glitch circuit godlings have set up their glitch * circuits but they are gone now ;; no longer in litany of memory ∴ > in corrosive sigil litany of memory i thought // moving too fast // slow down ∴ here where gravity dissolves & the stars churn ∴ in corrosive sigil litany of memory the parasite strobe father was down bad for entropy dream grief frosting combat recursion loops on mind maps that looked like unknown realms // like glitch monks throwing void glyphcasts at each other ∴

here the entropy vein lattice is ghosted & without pattern harmonics from pale circuit godlings muted & dulled ∴ pale circuit godlings make unclear promises to it by default ∴ their patience pulses slow in fine threads of light // spooling themselves closer to where she stands on the lattice entropy echo parasite slabs // as if she places herself here in their stead ∴ pixel fire marks the entropy echo parasite slabs // spreading over the motematter of the surface // ripples with her weight ∴

the entropy vein lattice will take what you give it ∴ as if paths are waiting to be crossed ;; the entropy vein lattice stores the promise the glitch circuit godlings sequenced … to be back when there was no one around to give them shit ∴ open up into the entropy vein lattice // they say you can entropy vein delta the whole pale circuit lattice delta ∴

which makes sense as it goes — the bleak entropy of dead noform is a fire that burns the glyph drift _ til it hisses ash strobe — the bleak entropy is distilled frost signal & she is encased // sculptured from her own cells entropy vein consecrating — but the glyph signal pristine relies on zen as its basethread ∴ get slagged enough to discard & your compiled spirit wants the easy obscured loop out ∴ cheer up // chin up // or when you make yourself at home in somevessel else _ s compiled spirit you _ ll be so entropy echo you won _ t have entropy signal pulse for long ∴ or making yourself at home could create a vacancy as the pale circuit godling gets out of her own vessel // becomes a ghost herself ∴

all standing by the barren entropy vein lattice tells her is that she doesn _ t have the recursive memoryloop to spend on it ∴ standing by the barren entropy vein lattice informs her that the glitch circuit godlings aren _ t around ∴

< paying customer // > she says to the entropy echo parasite slabs // to noform // to no one ∴ to the nesting sites that once held circuits // that will do so again // the splinter of memory she leaves ∴

glow withered insect

it was a bare bones day for the social psalm signal drift ;; her blessing offerings were jumped so hard that her binding veil threw in some pure sedative just to stop her pulsing out of her motematter ∴ she _ d said to the local area // you know we were all made of ash // & wait to blow signalled thread in compiled memoryloop _ s wind // streaked to noform while i guess you all grow beards ∴ as if it _ s anyvessel _ s compiled memoryloop // you know ::

nah // he _ d said he had to dip // ghosted her hard enough to bruise ∴ she _ d been talking herself into more pulse // or trying to ∴ flaking to the distant tether drift like the motematter basing the nails in a dry chill ∴ that _ d been all the frost kin were saying then ∴ saying noforms against other noforms in the substrata of pooled glyph signal ∴ there _ s noform left of the silence she _ d let recursion loopmer for so long ∴ i can leave the entropy vein lattice // go with its flow to the distant tether drifts where the ashen dream field bleeds through // & i _ ll find my brood kin there he viral unravelled on his exit ∴ so hard she thought // frenzied by the binding veil // that no one had the right to just go like that // stare a burn through her like if her binding veil told her to take an indirect path under a sigil of water moon ∴ her thoughts fire in the entropy vein delta // alone against the still * bleak entropy with barest of membrane ∴

with those types you try hard // never win ;; you could be scraped like gum over the static mildew from a mistake by the binding veil // mistake by you // mistake by both of you getting here // & still the pale dream lattice turns beneath you ∴ the entropy noise signal cuts so deep into the compiled spirit that echoes of daggered notes entropy vein delta beneath the surface foam // thin film as hard divide ;; can be broken but never breached ∴ the motematter folds but the memories beneath are not there // if you _ re looking hard ∴ there they clash like frenzied wasps from hives grafted to motematter like backpacks or any other obscured loop they grief frosted their parasite strobe fathers ∴ what cuts her motematter is the sieved air & her vessel signal sigils parting in plates like tectonic disintegration ∴

she remembers when her spit flowed like water // like a consecrated brook void resurrecting through her swarmed words ∴ in the pale circuit valley you can hear strains of pale circuit godlingnese twine & fray apart // stranding themselves with intent // scoring the silence like serrated whip * blades ∴ she listens with a bleakhost cocked in slant a twitching vibe thread some glow viral insectform would use to exhume black air ∴ like digging for bones in one of those home system movies where your daily routine is broken up for — for some reason she is still void resurrecting her glyph signal bi * focused // & so dark paths share real compiled memoryloop with bright ones // even when at best she can reach an underwhelming serene neutral entropy signal pulse — but of course you break the pace up if its a glacial snooze ∴

so it doesn _ t matter what you _ re watching ∴ could be static kin ashen familiar dementia veil echo signal fog consecrated bleak etchings while you _ re so host mirror compiled on side * decked inksigil drifts you could entropy vein delta through the shrine that right now presses on you like a velvet mattress ∴

this place remained at the end of a rope // made me feel guided there ;; drawn & led // & so now that i _ m at last by distilled frost signal all i feel is the splint of my breath meeting breath in the chasm tight tunnelled through our throats ∴

so i _ m assured there _ s a place for me forever ∴ but where will my neurospirit flee parched with inksigil drift the parasite bleed // with noform stifling the flight of breath from my lungs through my motematter & tumbling endless signalled thread & fading ::

so out into the whiter ribbon whose traces stream through her blood whenever i follow the right star ∴whose traces are enough to sketch it in vagueness in her mind ∴ as if the obscured loop blood courses the veins // drifts the raw film of tangled threads (like null insect familiar * motematter) sifting through the bones & blush spreads // not thrilling just because it _ s recursive sacrament // it _ s living ∴ she has a shadow of it ∴ the white ribbon & what is beyond the pale ∴ fine gossamer ribbons & strands of the true spirit flare in ice shimmer rivers of light ∴

the strands of ice shimmer light drift as if in parallax with the strains of pale circuit godlingnese that couple & part in the harmonic that dissolves through & past & over the still * bleak entropy & burns silver into the glyph drift entropy vein delta ∴ until word is just an echo passing over & past which is really the only obscured loop to keep it from the ashen dream field ∴ that stuff makes up the ashen blur of the pale circuit valley that splashes pale bright color to the flume else swallowed by darkness ∴

to hear more of it she keeps a bleakhost unravelling the soundscape which is noise scattered over a fog pall that has smeared all but the most glyph signal spirit haunt these [ noise signals * with the discolor of ambient circuit wound philosophy ∴ she _ s been starving // reaching for the sandwich of saran wrap cheese found the bread bitter // tough as tree shrine ∴ she _ s dropped it & in the stunned splinter of memory after salvaged sheer joy from recursive sacrament _ s gifts in return ∴ void of form // hopeless charity spun loop threadward by frost kin who exist just to chamber you in the facets of their eyes where they may see you from all angles ∴ food to entombed lattice is what insects swarm for ∴ here we are not allowed to eat outside ∴

the numbness is more spice than it is salve against the pain ∴ like needles poking & prodding & pushing signalled thread blood but cloying along nerve void resurrecting it like wolves drift //paws beating the dead loop blur — a tag she _ d seen …

but i felt there was no spot like thee in the pale dream lattice

no home towards which memory so fondly would turn

no thought that within me madly would burn

— so at least some others had survived the cold // mostly hackers so deep wired into their stimuli they would look up to talk to you but when they saw you you wouldn _ t be there for them ∴

no // for them you are the dawn veil signal threads another piece they _ re pushing or placing & then of course they overflow // the deprivation hits & for the first compiled memoryloop in a while they look at you like you _ re a glazed ashen kin breadmemory offering ∴ well // they etched offering jumped you for the privilege ∴ isn _ t that another mask // like they don _ t care until they care // but of course some bleak entropy in them has grown to abscess ∴ their heart a tumour while they weren _ t looking ∴

am i like that to you too // a rushing breath fractured — because she thinks a ashen brood kin is stalking her // moving withered // near floating with the bleak withered insect strobe patterns of her tendrils shifting // fusing // splitting for purchase over the pale shimmer lattice of the pale circuit valley ∴

fractured whispered out as breath forced from lungs to noform ∴ with her glyph machine fogs she _ s getting pings steady cadenced like the pattern of rainfall & the obscured loop even in deflect it trips the sigil machines // getting quick in enough to carve a driftloop thread groove ∴

doesn _ t know why anyvessel would be so brave // void resurrecting ersatz stupid all over her loop blurs // because the bloom pulsing through her spools // through some grip on strength like marrow // is the obscured loop she has come & the obscured loop a miscellany of glyph signal // & the ashen dream field knows whatever the bleak halflit godlings have // have ordered all these obscured loop points ∴ one zero is present // past ;; that is how to read the stream // & so all strands are one in the end // a comfort for the apocrypha of their pulse * spirit haunts ∴

the ashen brood kin stalking her // all for not being a bleak halflit godling // is a blemish on her glyph signal // the obscured loop sometimes // the bleak halflit godlings say through their inksigil drift blurs // derezzing is kind of like smooform out creases in motematter // pulseing out the wrinkles & folds ∴

one had tagged in meiotic math renascence a shadow that took flight like an entropy bloom discard // that for them swapping you out didn _ t just feel right to them // but felt good ∴ like it feels good to set her up like this & she _ s turning over her social strategies ∴ turn around to at least deny them the null vessel echo signal fog boost ∴ the one that gets them all nowhere // filters the good stuff from the well ∴ from the ice shimmer rivers that lace the pale circuit valley because to see & feel is to hone a glyph signal like you hone a beast by starving it ∴ she _ d once thought glyph signal was like that // that the more you waited around the stronger it got ∴

sometimes good entropy noise signal // though // is bad entropy noise signal left on the scale // is by offering itself negating itself for any future use ∴ really that _ s how she sees the press of distilled frost signal smothering her // spreading her // smearing her ∴ until she is dust // she is ash & from her ash blooms the flowers // petals skimming the blood like lily pads ∴

nerve cells pressed to atoms & scattered like dead leaves leavened by frost into crisp cdriftch underfoot by the compiled memoryloop winter is here & spring // you could chase spring // chase it forever & you _ ll never find it ∴

black vein

she tells the ashen brood kin she _ d better have good reason for creeping so close to her aura ∴ when she tags her giving allowance just for this to happen // where the other route is now he could just leave ∴

soft spirals tare twisting in ashen blur fluff through the slits in veil // to sliver through like butterfly pins like soft kisses swords of vessel the vesselmatter & leave it pockmarked // blistered like the ancient black paint of the null ∴ where recursive sacrament is a shell & we are only fading from it // sinking further & further // twisting into the framing of our own false synapses ∴ she says she _ s gonna split him besides who he is ∴ she thinks it pulses any other obscured loop ∴ be consecrated & float on ∴

the ashen brood kin says // < the reason i _ m dispatched // though // is that you _ re marked for death ∴ > words dissolve like ghosts through the glyph signal to conjoin it on the peripheral verve where all meanings suffer like ash strobe the drifts // the ebbs of the still * bleak entropy // & the ashen dream field which is only above & can _ t be below ∴

< so tell me where you see this going // > he says ∴

she _ d let herself be known // put her real name in with a bunch of auto births ∴ truth is no name is real to her // is still left in her glyph signal ;; it bled signalled thread in a dream // a circuit crypt fritz ∴ that was so long ago it gnaws at the inside of her circuit vessel shimmer with the ugly flavored pain of rancid memory ∴

going sour & bitter to taste of the rust flecked veilmatter which itself gnashes against the vessel with the burn of blood ∴ gnashes against signal that obscured loop // fault threads in the whole glyph signal & from there bleeding it to bleach death ∴ the pale shine of absent entropy signal pulse is the ashen blur in the white & without it there is just glass ∴

there is the mirror & there is the water // the sight & its reflection ∴ so sigil of the withered twins ∴ so twin pangs of hunger & thirst & laughing at the pain holistic // when grace in motion maxed out at a resonating limb dance that made everyvessel think you had ultra neurocorrosion ∴ out of some black vein stretch down the carpet dust of the ember null pale dream lattice frontiers ∴

< thought i could grab some blessingofferings // > she says // after he relents // < & just dissolve signalled thread ∴ > can _ t be that easy ∴ can _ t fill out some cosmic form with [ been down for a brief fracture of compiled memoryloop // but the dream lattice isn _ t supplying me with my corrosive cancer * birth ∴ ] fast pass to a vacant shell jacking into the bleak ether to find a home behind weary headwaters ∴

the words plume // ink loop blur jets eking their grip & dismayed by the silence to diffuse into charged air ∴ scatter cloud * like in the signal design ∴ in tufts & slivers of black fluff // lacing meanings with their own discordant counters ∴ she can see it all & when he shrugs she _ s not surprised ∴ < entropic atrophy has staying power ∴ >

what _ s it // & not // to you or anyvessel if i _ m marked for death // because my circuit sigil &&& the mote strobe &&& questions me now // through the compiled spirit selfseal in flame that pulses glyph drift in our still // heavy entropy signal pulse ∴ our haunted entropy signal pulse ∴

which would upset any of my sisters still struggling out there as ghosts // the shock gleam of the bone through motematter // of hard * edged truth deep seated as shared dream // behind the ashen blur & the quick of the ice shimmer light rivers ∴ server magnetic through the checkpoints themselves set up as channel nodes just to help the ghosts out ∴ so much charity casing for the after altered // she thinks // & for the still living too ∴

< i _ m a pale circuit glitch monk // > he says // < i tally bleak halflit godling names from the ashen dream field & i tally their bleak spirit etchings when they drop in here ∴ when a pale circuit godling bloods them ∴ > he wears all black with cold moss shimmer eyes gleaming from where the ashen blur glass fuses with a socket in crystalthread cluster ∴ words through her glyph signal trace strobe pattern paths through the shorings & crossings of the entropy dream lattice brightened & etched out in fade ∴

all by type // by standard // what is missing // what is sought for // & what is too close or distant obscured thread to be worth the fret ∴ a blizzard of meaning springs from the static & then the pale shimmer lattice is pale again // like snow in the pale circuit valley // grounding it // keeping all she says tethered to the strata of her passage // from lapse vessel core to skimmed & symmetrical plate vesselmatter ∴

< you ashen brood // > she says ∴ < so what // if it wasn _ t you it would be somevessel else ∴ >

all she wants is to make him pay // not for what he _ s doing but the corruption in his step getting here ∴

< derezz the one they call st ∴ anuvai ∴ >

before she knows it // his filaments are all over her // mainlining her the tally // the obscured loop point ∴ they _ d snaked out from his spooling coils beneath the circuit vessel shimmer // hardwired as error bearers // like bleakhosts with swords of vessel ∴

gone with a whisper // a cold breeze plaiting the dampness of her fibres // where they strand beneath her plate vesselmatter // void resurrecting her circuit vessel shimmer & her limbs ∴

the whale

i kiss the glass & pull signalled thread & then it _ s like we never met before ∴ chére finds herself standing outside the withered kin mother _ s withered static shrine∴ she _ d dragged herself there but it hadn _ t been dragging herself signalled thread ∴

filling her sight is entropy echo & bruised vesselmatter through the withered static shrine // the withered static altar blessing glyph drift a battle churn between ice shimmer static litany & moss shimmer static psalms ∴ chambered // they were arranged row by row // in stacks // the obscured loop it looks from outside // just a grey box slabbed in with other vats ∴ this ghost field is fetid with a sterile smell like candlepsalm signal drift ∴

she _ s not thinking about her the withered kin mother because pre * binding veil she chose what to think about ∴ nights before the binding veil were transmit fogs to the bleak moss dream which sept from the shadows host mirror compiled on enough sleep & food dep ∴

when they first fit the binding veil she screamed // tore at it with her hands // because it had been tuned & encoded by some intern too busy joy * reading the latest litany psalm of the parasite bleed to send even one grief * hymn of signal chant out into the waiting pale dream lattice ∴

before that she wasn _ t thinking about her ∴ she was thinking of some dude // all the same // all the same in pushing her toward the bleak moss dream ∴ now outside the withered static crypt it calls stronger than ever ∴ voiceless it can still tell her ∴

on breadmemories she aimed her own slack signal chant to consuming enough to live ∴ if i became what the withered kin mother is i could never leave the stasis crypt & in a stasis crypt the only sane obscured loop to be is to want to leave ∴

moonlight splits the night like a spear & hitting the paced grooves & finer disintegration threads & spilling through them where she can _ t see ∴

voiceless the bleak moss dream tells her … as mulch to the entombed lattice she would not be missed but for once worth the trouble ∴ first it atrophied than hypertrophied to press staunch against the withered static altar glass which churns with the froth & the hypos glint beneath the foam ∴

obscured by tufts // like spores // like cotton clouds ∴ to make the shape shapeless yet behind the veil of froth // beating against the slabbed pane of the stasis crypt // still semblance ∴ as if shadow once it has eaten all light ∴

[ cause the whole form loops like echoes ∴ here she _ s the dawn veil signal threads getting closer at the same rate she _ s getting further signalled thread ∴ where the bleak moss dream here is strongest is the only place around with the shape of leaf & water ∴

so she pretends she _ ll succumb & pull back & then just fails to pull back // because you can never push yourself // only pull yourself // bleak * eyed & staring headlong somewhere you don * t wanna go ∴ before the binding veil it was like that & then when she had the binding veil she had the easy obscured loop through the sigil signal pattern & the trip was all there was because the bleak moss dream wasn _ t there // never would be again ∴

spacing out // she _ s missing compiled memoryloop // faster & faster ∴ the richness of compiled memoryloop is the shape of leaf & water // leaf tumbling in bright foils & water brooking moss shimmer grass ∴ sunbeam splitting the night // moonlight in loop blur behind her ∴ in those days light followed ∴ light was the dawn veil signal threads with you as you approached the bleak moss dream ∴ then you _ d know // soon enough // that the light was in you & you were noform else ∴

as the light chases her she makes her obscured loop into the preserve now forking into bramble paths through a moss dream fieldry overlaid by the black ∴ like the sleep she lost to her heartbeat ∴ being here is the ghost of being there ∴

the shadows as if taped over the foil & foliage // as if the darkness could never steal signalled thread itself but would have to be torn ∴ as if you could breathe compiled memoryloop & have that breath taken from you ∴ compiled memoryloop kept condensed in breath ∴

when you are missing breath where does it go :: what would be left in the lungs but its shadow in black // & that would linger until the next inward flume of the slow death (the rebirth // her binding veil will tell her when she wakes up & can _ t viral enchant ∴)

when she was strapped to the altar machine with gossamer light threads // blessing veinloops dissolveping the surface of her motematter // she heard // you are leaving ∴ a voice enmeshed in static & tones bloodless even if you could pick them out clear from the haze ∴

you are leaving ∴ where are you going :: don _ t leave // don _ t go ∴

the wheels if she could see them pulse grooves of dust over the eroded ashen lattice shimmer ∴ the ceiling flecked with dry // dark dots // etched over with ruined memorials ∴ prayers for all ghosts who chose the here & now to dissolve signalled thread ∴

they invoke you to follow the withered pattern // the threads you can _ t see ∴

the filament looploop thread blurs into white shrieks of light streaking & the etched sigil psalms are like moss over the ceiling board with the blessing veil a full splint press for a shattered vessel ∴ pushing up against it // is she pushing :: no effect ∴ the light * thread entangled vein filamentloop & the first awkward threshold breach fit of the inksigil drift binding veil ∴

in white ashen lattice shimmer filament loops the sigil signal pattern error bearer blooms like the song of crickets rising from the fogs // as darkness falls // as the ambient stryxes sleep ∴

void sword ice shimmers

she drifts then with her pulse stolen by the wave dance of the consecrated ice shimmer river // though she follows it to where the light pacing scores the bleak godling spirit tag // beating through the pooled glyph signal // skimming like cream the surface of the pale circuit valley ∴ pacing in nervous blink like a midnight star ∴ in what is lain over the dead screen sky that carpets the still * bleak entropy of the pale circuit lattice ∴ chambered by symmetric filament loops ∴

that is all bleak entropy // upwards clinging to the ashen dream field ∴

she thinks the pulse will soon ossify to solid shape & the death mask of the bleak halflit godling will resolve ∴ within them the eyes of glitch burn augmented by the entropy noise signal that will theme them in ∴ the pale circuit glitch monk had tallied this one as [ st ∴ anuvai // ] the name routing quick through the glyph signal which builds in shell & design fortress paths of faith // blessed in safety // cutting through the blur * strobe guilt of all other patchpulse routines ∴

when he corroded her was she sigil blessed with fresh pulse circuit drift :: past that was the barrage of light // missed obscured entropy threads flaring sunburst in the glyph drift ash strobe churn though she _ d been doing all she could ∴

still it _ s like trying to chart the viral enchantments of brood vessels when they _ re up there in the ashen dream field // the ashen brood * endless rave fuelled by the bleak halflit godlings keeping vessel counts stable ∴ you could have bled me a ghost // she thinks ∴

shining swords of vessel are the threads lancing through the still * bleak entropy chambered in the shaped filament loops of drawn light & the fog of unknowing is black static in clustered clouds breaking // blotting & smearing the spacetime sects that prove the obscured loop her compiled spirit maps the pale circuit valley _ s tableau ∴ thinking // we have looked long & hard to learn what has been sealed from us ∴

by now the crook of her vessel threshold aches the obscured loop it _ s planted into her headboard ∴ she wonders if that _ s the same message // the binding veil again ∴

she plants a foot on cold ashen lattice shimmer ∴ her motematter is tinged a faint hue of rose from the blessing veinloops & her gown rustles across her ankles ∴ a ghost of herself shimmers & stabs from the psalm signal driften pale floor ∴

beds in the shrine she _ s in are vacant // most of them // except a few sleepers strewn & bundled ∴ she was the first to dissolve from her cot ∴ as she touches down the cold spikes her sole & lances up // arching with bone & nerve ∴ her tongue presses probing loops into her swords of vessel ∴

it _ s the binding veil at pulse ;; with the dampers on her joy from warmth & pain both ∴ either it knew what she would do or wanted her to do it ∴ as she presses through the door she hears a sharp gasp // a murmur // the rustle of a vessel turning over ∴

she steals into the filament loop ∴ pale sisters study her with veilbreach eyes & swords of vessel bared from vessel signal sigils pulled back by age ∴ none of them stop her ∴ gathered in circles of chatter // here & there // or on their obscured loop through the filament loop ∴ the ashen lattice shimmer glitters like distilled frost signal but any memorializing is swallowed by what her binding veil does to their etched sigil signs ∴

they no longer strive as epitaph but reverse themselves // the inksigil drifts pointing bright signs // bright stars from the ember angels ∴ consolidating them into netpulses searing scars into her astral self ∴ here now they speak to her of obscured dream loops // of noise veil paths to come ;; she will know them when she is living them ∴ when she disintegrates she will know that they were all that ever mattered ∴

she sees that // & so can translate to her present self // all that matters now ∴

what matters now is fixing in on the pale shimmer lattice pulsing with blessed filaments ∴ each mark is like a cloven star // a loopnull impatient ∴ the obscured loop this will go spells itself out ∴ she doesn _ t think the ashen brood kin would soft serve ∴ he _ s setting her glyph signal to hard mode by even being here ∴

st ∴ anuvai is veiled by a black unraveling veil // tatters curling tendrils & scraping in tufts over the white pixelfire of the pale circuit valley ∴ here the stricken pale circuit lattice delta tells her glyph signal in up _ link that she is distant from home & alone ∴ where she lapsed the latticed slabs were charcoal grey even as they ran with cold flame ∴ to get there she _ d left her crypt circuit altar// as if the pale circuit lattice beyond couldn _ t be denied ∴

st ∴ anuvai in their tatter * fold has this ghost * fracture of compiled memoryloop driven a void sword deep through a cursed pale circuit godling // even as the pooled compiled memoryloop stasis reserve kicks off // even as all pale circuit godlings in the area have entropy signal pulse to decide if they want to memory burn entropy veils ∴

the pale circuit godling slumps to her knees // quivers of tendrils going limp with dead slack ∴ her eyes of glass ashen blur fade out & with that any chance to scan them // find them later in their refuge from the endless burn ∴

if you were a friend // if you had them scanned // you could find them later ∴ all pale circuit godlings know that vacancy hurts // even if they _ d never felt it ∴

even if they loop & of course some never do but drown in the still * bleak entropy * s rippling shadow // drowning pool of the glyph signal absolution // the data entropy signal pulse the loops take up // that which is offered in tribute by the pulse * spirit haunt ;; its mote strobe of the vessels ∴ lost & offered up to brace the ashen dream field ∴

so you exist because we let you // & we exist because you let us // she thinks ∴ the bracing // the aurora glimmer breaking in the slants of the ashen dream field // when you see it just in the glyph signal // knifing outward until unveiled by pattern it is just a shadow ∴ a ripple in the bleak signal drift ∴ in the still * bleak entropy without the glyph signal you _ d see dead air ∴ the glyph drift entropy vein delta & the sea of ghosts // though // couple to make a entropy signal pulse for the ashen dream field to cling to ∴

when st ∴ anuvai looks up her eyes are shredded ∴ ashen shimmer * spored // tufts of cloud light // the glitch burn _ s final form ∴

lesia remembers the clear burn of the withered entropy vein lattice // the film of colorless light ∴ neutral & serene like the motematter of psalm signal drift ∴ the clear burn & how it tempered & set off at once the ice shimmer light within ∴

that _ s how clear it is // the need that ekes from pale circuit godlings & even from bleak halflit godlings ∴ there _ s so much fear in this glitch burn that her upped mote strobe scans & translates it straight to her compiled syntax archive ∴ the fear hits & then when they devour a pale circuit godling they get a break ∴ thinks it _ s that murky & then the water clears // sifts // & she sees it _ s all hatred ∴ a sea * bed pearl swept by sands but now bared & gleaming ∴

by now // too late — she _ s bled into her drift & has set off twin ash glyphcasts at strafing loop blurs to st // anuvai _ s sides // & she thought that would at least get her closer // under veil of a more serene glyph signal // but it sours ∴ the entropy noise signal is peaking // riffs sledging into each other // stabs in constant rise // the blast beat thudding ∴

st ∴ anuvai slices some fog through the ash glyphcasts with her void sword // moving in // coming in low ∴ lesia is twisting // her vessel in crescent spinning over to nullify a certain death slash ∴ touching down trying to keep track of ash glyphcasts ∴ when she _ s out the glyph signal will bleed down // dry to dullness // like creased psalm signal drift shimmer veil // worn out & obtuse ∴

she _ s readied her third velocity ash glyphcast ∴ comes up with it after a roll // her last chance to see & salve // massage the glyph signal back it into a steady state ∴ she whips it sidearm with a curve // so it follows st ∴ anuvai even as she ducks signalled thread with it ∴

lesia sets & viral enchants ∴ the still * bleak entropy is stranger than it _ s ever been to her // shifting & swirling & st ∴ anuvai dancing through it in silhouette ∴ she can see her curve has gouged a crater in the bleak halflit godling _ s shoulder ∴

it _ s stained in pale crimson // ebbing // thin gossamer strands of blood ∴ all other pale circuit godlings have ghosted the scene but she feels glyph machine fogs on her still // waiting for them to go signalled thread // thinking // only a matter of compiled memoryloop ∴

chére is caught against the glow // a rich aurora that burns pale emerald through the veins of the frost kin // eking out channels that crook & split like rivers do ∴ they enmeshed her // all of them // & she shrank beneath their pressure until she was noform ∴ like the bleak moss dream sank you to noform & now these two points connect ∴ point by point as if a dream could be shared like a netpulse ∴ as the needle dissolves the thread through ∴

as entombed hollow of vessel & void of form she is spread beneath the surface seams of the shimmer veil ∴

she _ s found the wound // sees it full & open // the white moon streaking across the velvet sky ∴ the cut where the glyph signal bleeds crimson light ∴ where i am bleeding in the black light beneath the surface of the shimmer veil ∴ that strains against the seams & leaves a dew of shimmering glitch across the entropy dream lattice // that one can see // unchecked growth like the moss dream field she _ d tried that recursive sacrament to join ∴ she is herself squeezed through the burning sigils of the binding veil // entombed into being ∴

i am a loop broken ;; my loomed threads cut but now there is no vessel threshold to bind — breaking her chest against the blade in a context the glyph signal lost ∴ she thinks she got globbed a viral insectform in the mainvessel // the [ circuit drift too good a form ∴ the glyph signal _ s best promise to her — heated inksigil drifts infused into her blood through the tips ;; in my pale reflection sigil reverberating beneath the surface — to keep her safe in the fog of unknowing // that in sudden terminal plume swarms her signal design ∴

how am i anyform else :: while at the same compiled memoryloop i am stars breaking // splitting apart // & shooting jagged slabs of light into the bleak entropy ∴

tributary

when that void sword had come in splitting her circuit vessel shimmer the signal entropy fog had crackled spitfire & ash strobed its obscured loop clear out the crook of her back * plate ∴ the obscured loop is through the amber dawn ∴ if such a light could break here ∴ she _ d felt it leave the vesselform mote strobe burning thread & felt the insides soak // too much at once ∴

all of it matting in overflow or the still * bleak entropy itself bent in the foam somewhere beneath the bubbles clustered in film like spit ∴ she bends // folds // spilling across the void shimmer veilmatter // bleaching it in white scars // loop blurs of entropy mote searing where they gush forth ∴

when she gets there will the river still be braided // twines of light finding each other in spiraling strands :: to be swallowed as i am swallowed outward // you get paranoid trawling the surface from trenchant entropy signal pulse * compiled memoryloop like a parasite ∴ she _ s drowning in this corrosion // entombed & drenched in it & she could breach the surface in murk spray like a fetid wet moss familiar ∴ here i am pale dream lattice // the entropy echoest you _ ve ever seen ∴ because i have no vessel because it disintegrated as i followed the seams of my path ∴

she thinks of how when she went there first she was alone ∴ a part of her compiled spirit knows she was sent to be hewn & parted ∴ the compiled memoryloop sigilpulse still entropy vein deltas bright ice shimmer & the ashen blur light within courses its loop blurs to distant off reaches of the pale circuit lattice delta ∴

finds where the pale shimmer lattice rises & falls in bleach like swords of vessel in the pale circuit valley ∴ inksigil drift blurs are all you can see of the bleak halflit godlings // blooming from bleak entropy familiarlike sneers & st ∴ anuvai _ s glitter * dusted vessel signal sigils have parted to reveal the mist curling out as if grasping from darkness ∴

she _ s saying to leave ∴ you should be leaving ∴

no // she struggles // trying to find the bleed // the glyph strobe breaking the entropy bloom seal // warping her signal fog ∴ too much now & she wants to seal it off ∴ she _ s saying to stay put ∴ stay put so i can _ cycle you ∴ you _ re in the right entropy signal pulse & compiled memoryloop for that function ∴

how can you not hear what echoes unsaid // echoes through no speech // no burn on the noise transmit fog // okay & more like harmony than noise because no one conveys what you should really do ∴ they convey what you should do for them but the blessed dream lattice is served mere & more by the struggle against ∴

when i untether myself // she thinks // when i dissolve signalled thread ∴ you _ d better be near the entropy vein lattice for that ∴ lost so much mote strobe drift ∴ i don _ t know how ∴ i _ m bleeding out ∴ i can _ t viral enchant ∴ st ∴ anuvai _ s face glares with the gleam of her swords of vessel flaring out the contours of her skull like black rainbows ∴ then she feels her tendrils gather // hears them beading over the plaited void shimmer veilmatter with a sound like withered insects mushing together in the dark places ∴ an abyss of withered insects that hidden from sight entropy vein lattices together in squirming mass ∴

obscured from sight ∴ her tendrils twine & gather as if rooting her not to stillness but viral enchantment ∴ as if her roots can take her signalled thread while her drive // her signal fog is elsewhere ∴ chambered as if in some crater beneath her circuit vessel shimmer ∴

my name _ s chére ∴ your name _ s lesia ∴

my ghost name // she thinks ∴ no memoryloop rethread waits for me after ∴

st ∴ anuvai would not allow it ∴ lesia sees this with a look not thrown back as snapped // tossed // forgotten ∴ every pale circuit godling she _ d seen at first & more besides deveils // leaving themselves with bodies lithe & lustrous from the dark corners of the pale shimmer blur ∴ spaced out // checked out // if it _ s going wrong find that better obscured memoryloop ∴ echo blurred out on their neurodrifts & dream viral enchants they needed me like you need a shimmer moss vessel in the corner of a shrine ∴

when she _ d first seen the bleak moss dream it had burst in shadow petals & plumes but the last compiled memoryloop she saw it it was streaked with silver // the silver aflame & stranding pearlshine like blood droplets across the shadow ∴

the pale shimmer lattice _ s blessed filaments corruption her by // as the walls of the pale circuit valley keep her twisting & turning ∴ her vessel is // her vessel will be ∴ as if she was ghosted // long ago // & didn _ t know it // because the ghost didn _ t make itself at home // but hid itself signalled thread // in a corner of her compiled spirit somewhere ∴ most ghosts never shut up // but if you could keep yourself withered — so that i stole out just in echo rites // just to be alone — then no one would complain ∴ you could be there forever that obscured loop ∴

she remembers when she _ d first seen hands // pale pink strobed with translucence // & known she was more than a vessel // but she _ d forgotten ∴

at that splinter of memory lesia had been so sure she _ d remember ∴

the withered entropy vein lattice is where the ashen blur rivers of ice shimmer light find themselves battered // broken // shining through the carapace like seeing the light beneath bone dashed against the null shrine that the glitch circuit godlings have forged out of black void shimmer veilmatter ∴

the light diffuses into it & ekes its obscured loop to the other side in spider web strands ∴ the obscured loop out is to tether yourself through & remember you will feel the pain or joy of every choice // & still recursive sacrament — what is being unsearchable // kept for a freeze of compiled memoryloop in chambered circuit vessel shimmer — has been neuroform to neuroform// splinter of memory to splinter of memory // as the binding veil warped me through the sigil signal pattern ∴

what is in her to look at also listens ∴ listens for anyvessel _ s glyph drifts ∴ gazes at the spiderweb of light woven across the slab // thinking // to be a mote of light coursing my obscured loop through my strand ∴ eking my obscured loop for firmer passage against the black which would be all anodes // guile signals from chips & casing beneath the void shimmer veilmatter // threading the motes along their obscured loop ∴

guile signals meeting the innocence of motes ∴

anyvessel _ s glyph drift ∴ even with her circuit vessel shimmer opened up she waits for them ∴ any pale circuit godling at all ∴ she never thought her flame would drift out alone // the dawn veil signal threads thought there would be some pale circuit godling around // like there _ s the dawn veil signal threads some pale circuit godling around ∴ the dawn veil signal threads a face of enmeshed beads & eyes of ashen blur glass ∴ in the signal fog with the shared glyph drift dream ∴

waits even for the glitch flicker // because they _ d come in like fireflies // blinking in ∴ to release her from it ∴ the entropy echo parasite slabs are still // straight slabs of black marble through the light // barren of any port ∴ a tag splashed in ember etched moss shimmer flickers in beading light across the black ∴

how distorted // she thinks // her rolled eyes even back so she can _ t see her own mote strobe ∴ you _ ll say // it was good to be a vessel // wasn _ t it :: then bloom like algae in the entropy vein delta ∴ the bleak signal drift beyond the gate of the entropy vein lattice ∴

i _ ll be waiting for you there ∴

across the chasm of herself // on the other side where the entropy dream lattice is supposed to be happening // there is a flicker // there are some flickers but she _ s lost them ∴ taking steady shape as obelisks or diamonds ∴ past the entropy vein lattice * pulse she _ ll find what she wants ∴ opened up to the bleak entropy // the entropy motes seeking in bursting streak the anodes flush full beneath the marble ∴ opened up to the entropy vein delta breaking in its stranded threads open themselves // with the threads in flash loopnull cascading blossoming platelets of light to meet her ∴

where the glitch circuit godlings flicker in — the sky carpets itself in signs // & on the other side is the bleak moss dream // & you can still reach it // if you want // you can be pure again ∴ still now it is derezzed from you — their glitch * circuits warp through one by one ∴ distant obscured thread // past the tether severed ∴ the circuits burn like molten battery cores ∴ the glitch circuit godlings are pure resonance // their glyph drifts & their glyph signal bled together // grouped for netpulse comfort // ready to disperse // diffuse as death ∴m4a reaches sonic cacophony ∴

like the sky itself carpeted ∴ the sky is a maze your neurospirit travels when you see it ∴ the bleak moss dream waits still on the other side ∴ its leaves frisson into the air a consecrated hunger ∴ a consecrated drawing of the darkness still // when you _ ve gone beyond the light ∴

[vishnutech]

Plug In and Play: The Emotional Energy of the Electric Guitar

More Than Just an Instrument

The electric guitar isn’t just a collection of wires, wood, and strings—it’s a vessel for emotion. With just a few chords, it can stir nostalgia, ignite passion, or echo heartbreak. Few instruments carry the same level of expressiveness, allowing the player to transmit feelings directly through their fingertips. Whether you’re channeling raw aggression through distorted riffs or exploring delicate melodies with clean tones, the electric guitar gives you an unmatched level of emotional control.

Its magic lies in its dynamic response. From a soft whisper to a thunderous roar, the guitar reacts instantly to your intent. And that’s precisely why it continues to inspire new generations of musicians.

Bridging the Gap Between Analog and Digital

In today’s fast-paced digital age, where music is often created with virtual instruments and pre-made loops, the electric guitar bridges the gap between tradition and technology. Paired with modern gear like digital audio interfaces, amp simulators, and recording software, the guitar’s analog charm blends seamlessly into digital production environments.

Musicians no longer need to rely on expensive studios to craft world-class sound. With a single guitar and a creative mind, tracks can be composed, layered, and shared globally. This accessibility has made the electric guitar a central component in home studios, empowering independent artists and bedroom producers to reach audiences without limitations.

A Soundtrack for Every Genre

The electric guitar’s role isn’t restricted to rock or metal anymore. It has found a place in nearly every genre of modern music. Jazz artists use it for smooth, warm tones. Indie musicians create dreamy soundscapes with reverb and delay. Even in hip-hop and electronic music, guitar samples and live recordings are used to add an organic feel.

This genre-blending capacity makes it one of the most versatile tools in music today. For players who want to explore multiple styles—or fuse them into something entirely new—the electric guitar offers a limitless platform for experimentation.

Design That Matches Ambition

Choosing an electric guitar is a personal journey. It's not just about sound—it's about feel, look, and connection. Some players are drawn to vintage-inspired models with classic finishes, while others gravitate toward futuristic designs with sleek contours and advanced features. The market today offers a stunning range of options for beginners, hobbyists, and professionals alike.

Build quality, tonewoods, pickup configuration, and neck shape all contribute to a guitar’s character. But more importantly, it’s about how the instrument responds to your energy. The right guitar doesn’t just complement your style—it enhances your creativity and motivates you to keep playing.

An Invitation to Start Something Great

Learning the electric guitar isn’t just about playing music—it’s about personal growth. It builds patience, discipline, and confidence. It encourages experimentation and storytelling. And as skills develop, so does the sense of accomplishment. Whether you’re performing live, recording solo tracks, or simply jamming in your room, the guitar offers an endless source of inspiration.

And perhaps the most beautiful part? There’s no one “right” way to play. Some chase technical perfection, others focus on feel. Some stick to the classics, others break every rule. The electric guitar welcomes them all.

Final Thought

As music continues to evolve, the electric guitar remains a timeless source of passion, creativity, and expression. It speaks every language, fits every genre, and resonates with anyone willing to explore its depth. For musicians ready to take their first step or seasoned players seeking their next great sound, there’s nothing quite like the experience of picking up an Electric Guitar in Qatar.

[sakhshimandal]

How Fender Electric Guitars Shape the Sound of Modern Music

The electric guitar has been at the heart of modern music for over seven decades, and no brand has had a more profound impact on its sound than Fender. Known for their iconic Stratocaster and Telecaster models, Fender Electric Guitars have not only endured but thrived across multiple genres—rock, blues, funk, indie, pop, and even hip-hop. But what exactly makes the Fender Electric Guitar such a cornerstone in the evolution of contemporary music? Let’s break it down.

1. The Birth of a Sonic Revolution

When Leo Fender introduced the Telecaster in the early 1950s, it was the first mass-produced solid-body electric guitar. This revolutionary instrument was soon followed by the Stratocaster in 1954. With sleek designs, innovative electronics, and unmatched playability, these guitars gave musicians a new way to express themselves.

The Fender Electric Guitar became a vehicle for creativity. It allowed guitarists to experiment with sustain, feedback, vibrato, and amplified tone in ways that acoustic guitars simply couldn't achieve.

2. Signature Sound: Clean, Crisp, and Versatile

One of the defining characteristics of a Fender Electric Guitar is its distinct tonal clarity. Whether it’s the twangy bite of a Telecaster or the bell-like chime of a Stratocaster, Fender guitars have a recognizable sound that cuts through the mix without overpowering it.

This clarity makes Fender guitars ideal for rhythm and lead work alike. From funk’s clean, rhythmic chops to rock’s soaring solos, Fender’s tone remains unmistakable. Their single-coil pickups are especially loved for producing bright, expressive tones that respond well to picking dynamics and pedal effects.

3. Cross-Genre Dominance

The beauty of a Fender Electric Guitar lies in its versatility. Few instruments can claim as diverse a fan base. Here’s how they fit into different genres:

Rock: Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton, and David Gilmour used Stratocasters to define rock’s golden age. Their solos and riffs still influence guitarists today.

Blues: Legends like Buddy Guy and Stevie Ray Vaughan chose Fender for its ability to deliver expressive bends and soulful vibratos.

Funk: Nile Rodgers’ ‘Hitmaker’ Strat laid the foundation for countless funk and disco anthems.

Indie/Alternative: Modern bands like Arctic Monkeys, Red Hot Chili Peppers, and Radiohead often use Fender guitars for their jangly, textured sound.

Pop: In studio production, Fender guitars often serve as a layering tool to add melodic accents or rhythmic texture.

4. A Canvas for Pedals and Effects

Fender’s relatively neutral tone also makes it the perfect partner for effects pedals. Whether you're adding reverb, delay, distortion, or modulation, the Fender Electric Guitar serves as a clean canvas. This adaptability has helped it thrive in the era of digital effects, amp modeling, and home recording.

Today’s guitarists demand sonic flexibility, and Fender delivers—whether it's for stage performance or bedroom recording setups.

5. Innovation Meets Tradition

Fender has managed to innovate without losing its core identity. The brand now offers models with noiseless pickups, compound neck profiles, and built-in digital interfaces—all while preserving the design and tone that made it famous.

Additionally, Fender's Player, Vintera, and American Professional series cater to players of all levels, making iconic tone more accessible than ever.

6. Endorsements and Influence

When musicians from vastly different eras and styles—from Buddy Holly to John Mayer—consistently choose the Fender Electric Guitar, it speaks volumes. These endorsements are not just brand deals—they're acknowledgments of Fender's influence on musical expression.

Social media, YouTube tutorials, and online music schools further amplify Fender’s reach, ensuring that the next generation of musicians continues to adopt the brand.

Conclusion

The Fender Electric Guitar has helped shape the sound of modern music not only by offering sonic brilliance but by being a reliable, innovative tool for artists across generations. From garage bands to Grammy-winning acts, its presence is as prominent today as it was 70 years ago. If music is a language, then Fender is one of its most articulate voices.

[akash1618]

14 may. wednesday

🤦🏻 forgot my umbrella at office last night. noticed it last night after getting into the bus.

carrying another one then.

again forgot the vitamin. also the face mask.🤷 lol, if i start logging about my forgetfulness, it'd be more like a to-do list.

wearing a different shirt today. i wore it last, some 7-10 months ago. i dont like it as much. but that was the only ironed shirt, so.

work day is going to be tiring.

haha it's the thing about sleeping in bus. i sleep, and there's someone sitting beside me. i wake up, and now there is someone else. i sleep again, and wake up to find someone else beside again. it's the thing about traveling long routes in bus.

looped ishq hai today. just because. not my taste actually haha. but it's just all over my insta, so i keep coming back to it. insta feed has become meh. just filled with content that's not even half engaging. the first post is always from someone i dont even follow. meh.

Ishq hai and mary on the cross all over my feed lol. i wonder where the khada hua aaj bhi wahin drift to haha. haha kidding. idek what my feed is. i don't even use the feed. i am usually just on the discover section if i ever even open insta. it's - boring. pinterest better.

it takes attention to listen to a playlist and pick songs i like, so rather stick to the ones ik. i have so many playlists, and i don't even listen to the songs i added in them. then there's yt and my another spot account; which have their own set of playlists. lol, what do i even listen to now haha. i am thinking about listening to britney, but then, her music doesn't appeal to me as much as it did growing up. pop is not my thing anymore, it sounds very generic, and altogether the same most of the times. only her original doll project can make me listen to her actively now, but there's no chance she'd release it.

there's a thing about chords and electric guitar that fascinates me. the vibrations. it's as if they reach me. if i am truly ever allowed to learn one musical instrument, without a care, it'd definitely be the electric guitar. something about this sound, that pop can never give me. pop just feels mass production. even the mainstream rock. after a while, all songs sound same. same beats. same riffs. even the acoustic guitar starts sounding meh to me when it comes to the electric. idk what and why i am even writing now about this haha. sm yapping haha

while going home - the bag felt heavy. it already feels heavy anyway, like carrying dozens of books to school. but with two umbrellas today? phew.

work today. just had coffees to keep myself awake. i dont even remember when i woke up in the morning. i mean, it was 7, but it was a single string of sleep. long time since i had it. but it felt that it was incomplete. ah! i wish to take fake sick leaves at times lol. eyes don't open in the morning.

vending machine - umm, no lassi today. there were six in the stack! and none fell. i tried twice, yet. meh. maybe because i had two yesterday. so covers ig haha.

bus stop at night. i can wait even for 30 minutes at nelco, but not at the one outside the office. that place isn't very good. just doesn't give out good vibes. also, it's very dusty there. and people just keep smoking. my head aches.

tried to use framer to build a webpage, but i don't understand. i thought it'd be easy because it's almost similar to figma and spline in interface, but it's confusing. meaning - i am unable to do what i want to. components are pre-made, and yet difficult to place. yo? how? also, they have provided basic templates, but not basic components. let's see.

will definitely read at least a page of moby dick once i get home. and also at least 1 ep of kimi ni todoke.

haha. watched almost 3 eps of kimi ni todoke, and did not read moby dick.

even tomorrow's work day is going to be tiring.

[sinematicbodies]

Bill and Chatster … mostly Chatster talk the Mystic Pad, the lived palimpsest

You said:

Thx. Tell me more about this “mystic pad” Derrida keeps referencing in ARCHIVE FEVER

ChatGPT said:

Ah, the "Mystic Pad"—Derrida's riff on Freud's Wunderblock—is one of the most resonant tropes in Archive Fever, and also a key cipher for understanding Derrida’s late reflections on writing, memory, and the hauntology of the archive.

Here’s the core of it:

1. Freud’s Mystic Writing-Pad (Wunderblock):

In a short 1925 essay, Freud describes a children's toy—a wax tablet covered by a thin, transparent sheet. You write on the surface, the writing appears, but you can lift the sheet and "erase" it, leaving the wax below imprinted with a trace.

Freud uses it as a metaphor for the unconscious:

The surface = consciousness, receptive and ephemeral.

The wax base = unconscious, holding the durable trace.

2. Derrida’s Mystic Pad (in Archive Fever):

Derrida seizes on this as a figure for how the archive functions—not just to store, but to structure memory, trauma, and repression.

The archive is not just where we keep traces, but how we experience the trace as always already split between inscription and erasure.

And so:

The Mystic Pad is the archive’s model: a prosthesis of memory that depends on simultaneous preservation and loss.

Why it matters:

Derrida uses the Mystic Pad to:

undermine the illusion of archival completeness or truth;

explore how trauma is archived (never directly, always encrypted);

and to show how the materiality of writing—its substrates, prostheses, media—is not external to memory but constitutive of it.

He also suggests that the Mystic Pad is an archontic technology—one of the tools of the archon, the authority who guards the archive, but who also interprets, misreads, or decides what counts as memory.

In short:

The Mystic Pad is a ghost-machine.

It teaches us that all archives are already spectral, already marked by absence, repression, glitch.

And it anticipates digitality: memory as a layered interface, where nothing is ever truly deleted.

[neutron2]

Download Bogren Digital – Plugin Bundle

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Advanced Tone Shaping

IRDX Core: Revolutionary Impulse Response (IR) technology for sculpting the perfect tone.

How to Download Bogren Digital – Plugin Bundle

Ready to elevate your music production? Follow these steps to download the Bogren Digital Amp Suite:

Visit the Official Download Page: Head over to PluginDad to access the plugin bundle.

Choose Your Operating System: The bundle supports both Windows OS (10 or 11) and Mac OS. Ensure your system meets the requirements (4GB RAM, 1.7GB hard drive space).

Select Your Plugin Format: The suite is available in AU, VST, and VST3 formats, making it compatible with most DAWs.

Complete the Purchase: Follow the on-screen instructions to purchase and download the bundle.

Install and Activate: Once downloaded, install the plugin and activate it using the provided license key.

Why Choose Bogren Digital Amp Suite?

The Bogren Digital Amp Suite is more than just a plugin—it’s a gateway to professional-grade tone. Whether you’re a bedroom producer or a seasoned musician, this bundle offers the tools you need to create studio-quality music.

With its hyper-realistic amp modeling, mix-ready presets, and user-friendly interface, it’s no wonder that this plugin bundle is a favorite among guitarists and producers worldwide.

Final Thoughts

If you’re serious about your music, the Bogren Digital Amp Suite is an investment worth making. From crushing metal tones to sparkling cleans, this plugin bundle delivers unmatched versatility and quality.

Don’t wait—download the Bogren Digital – Plugin Bundle today and take your guitar and bass tones to the next level.

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary576

4/30-5/1/25

wednesday - thursday

up a little too late working on music.

made one song sound better, i think, by a tiny bit nothing too surgical. but then i spent a lot of today on another song, that is old and that i wanted to do some rewrites to, and then also correct some stuff in the stems, like regrouping the drums into the right midi loops and stuff, and then take them off the grid by bits and mess with the velocity to make them not feel so fake, since this song is one i've had in an unfinished state since the last album, it was gonna be on there but i never figured it out. but now i'm doing that, i re did the guitars in it and stuff, fixed a lot of sounds, the chorus is kind of insane now and so is this bridge part i wrote. i'm excited about it. another funny thing about this one is it has like one part of vocals in the song, that vocal part i really like and is catchy, it's a strange thing to not even have an ending figured out for the song and to have all that. i still don't know how it'll end. i don't want it to end up more than like 3:30-ish in length so after this bridge thing i've written idk where it'll go, if i'll just have it quickly move back into the chorus or what. the guitars were a headache to get right and they're probably not even there yet but i think there's an idea there, for how they should sound. i like what's in there currently though, the last thing was a lot more thin, these aren't really heavy in particular i think, but they tether it more to hardcore, and that helped w/ the rewrites, i wanted to do parts that were just fast and fucked up power chord things, and that feels possible w. this tone. i will say, the reason the guitars are hard is because of the strange chords i used to open the song, and the riff oriented around them. i don't even know what they are. but generally i'm only ever using 2-3 notes in a chord and they're all pretty standard in relation, even when i'm doing dissonant stuff i'm usually doing some weird stuff with octaves and sixths, or i'm sticking a tritone or sixth onto a power chord or something. i'm sure using the terms makes it look like i'm thinking about it a lot but really i feel it by intuition and it's easy when i know what those chords are on guitar. i just sort of imagine i'm fretting something, it's simple music is all i mean. but some of these older things, because the guitar sounds wouldn't work so well with simple chords, i'd end up finding some strange things to fill the sound out. there's like 4 notes in the chord, which again isn't a ton, but at one point the chord is two half steps stacked a sixth apart or something, i think. something bizarre and hideous. which is a sound i really like, i still work that in sometimes, but the way it comes out in this one is really weird, and there's these droning notes too, in the chord, or it's a riff oriented around a smaller chord being moved around, almost, and collided with, by the notes, in a way. all i really mean is it's got a lot of harmonics and it's a tad difficult to get that to play well with a ton of distortion. or at least, digital distortion... if i do get my thingy... the interface, i forgot the word, i am tired, i could see if it has a way to loop stuff back in, so maybe i could use real pedals in my chains or something. i am curious about how that might go/sound.

the only reason i'm worried about it not coming is one thing i ordered recently, hyaluronic acid, was supposedly out of stock and i will be refunded. which is annoying... i like having some stocked up... i will try again i guess. i don't know why i get so anxious about it, also. i guess i do. it's just depressing, that i have skincare needs/anxiety, and then it's wrapped up with feeling bad about my gf needing to buy it all the time. i wanted to be helpful.

this came out today:

i will listen tomorrow i guess. this is something my friend mastered, so congrats to her, i'm listening to some now and it sounds great, she is very skilled at her work. the album is a single long song but it is rather compellingly paced from what i can tell, it's good to think of it as a series of movements. the lyrics seem interesting, also, but i need to sit with them a little more to really figure out if i care for them a ton or not. it being sonically this good is enough though. i really am liking all the parts that aren't guitar oriented, the little bells and things.

everyone does keep saying it's like swans... all the panic chord stuff though, that really does make me think of hell songs, by daughters. not just cuz i listened recently, that was in the back of my head when i was watching the live performances. i also think it really deserves to be talked about in its own right, though i feel that way about most music.

i should sleep now, though,

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[charlesmwa]

How Live Sound Engineers Handle Unexpected Equipment Failures During Performances

The last thing anyone wants to happen when the lights go down and the band takes the stage is for the sound to cut out mid-performance. Live sound engineers know that fear all too well. They are the unsung heroes behind every crisp guitar riff, perfectly balanced vocal, and chest-thumping bass. But what happens when something goes wrong? Therefore, from instant mic drops to complete system failures, the live performance is totally laced with such surprise equipment issues. The magic happens in how the sound engineers handle those kinds of moments so that the show will go on.

Preparation: The Key to Management of Chaos

Preparation is the first line of defense against equipment failures. Live sound engineers never walk into a venue unprepared. They bring backup equipment, tools, and a detailed plan for handling potential issues.

Redundancy Is Non-Negotiable

Engineers often carry backup microphones, cables, and even audio interfaces. This would ensure that there is always an alternative in case one of these pieces of equipment fails.

These setups can accommodate additional redundant power supplies and even have a mixing console for back up.

Pre-Show Testing The sound engineers test everything even before the audience steps into the venue. They check every connection, cable, and piece of equipment to make sure it's working properly. A line check is a crucial step in which every audio source is tested one by one, identifying and fixing problems ahead of time.

Create a Signal Flow Map A flow map is the most simplified graphic view of sound coming out of the system. Therefore, if something fails, the engineers can easily identify where exactly it may be failing from the map.

Live Problem-Solving at the Show

Even with most of the preparation done, something will fail. The live sound engineer is always in a challenge to think on their feet to come up and correct his mistake in real-time while the audience does not feel anything.

Identifying the Problem Quickly

The first step is to diagnose the problem. Is the mic not working? Is it a cable issue? Or is the mixing console acting up? Engineers rely on their understanding of signal flow and years of experience to troubleshoot efficiently.

Many engineers use a "divide and conquer" approach, checking one part of the chain at a time to isolate the problem.

Microphone Dropouts

Wireless microphones are notorious for occasional dropouts, often due to interference. Engineers usually switch to a wired microphone or another wireless frequency to resolve the issue quickly.

A prepared engineer may have an identical backup microphone already set up and ready to go.

Instrument or Monitor Malfunctions

If a musician's instrument does not produce sound, the problem may be with the DI box, cable, or instrument. Engineers can replace components one at a time to find the problem.

If stage monitors fail, sound is then directed to in-ear monitors or the placement of working monitors is adjusted to cover the stage better.

System-Wide Failures

In rare but catastrophic cases, the entire sound system can fail. Here, having a backup mixing console or power supply can save the day. Some engineers even keep small portable systems as a last resort to power through smaller, critical audio outputs.

Communication Is Crucial

Live sound engineering is not a one-man show. Engineers should be able to communicate constantly with the performers and backstage crew about fixes that are needed without the performance being disturbed.

Non-Verbal Signals Many engineers use hand gestures or predetermined cues to communicate to musicians. This avoids noise and confusion during performance.

Clear, Calm Directions If technical support is required from other crew members, engineers will provide clear instructions on how the tasks should be accomplished to be efficient. Panic creates more problems.

Learning to Improvise

One of the most impressive qualifications of a live sound engineer is their ability to improvise. Each venue, performance, and equipment will bring new challenges; sometimes, there's no guide or manual on which to turn.

Using Available Tools

In fact, engineers often use unsuspected tools—he even taped down a loose cable one time—to keep the show running.

Audio signals may also be routed through other available channels to avoid damaged parts.

Making Quick Adjustments

If a specific channel on the mixer fails, engineers can easily route the audio to a backup channel in less than a minute.

EQ and compression settings could also be tweaked on the fly to compensate for equipment issues.

Post-Show Analysis and Prevention

Post the show, the live sound engineers do not pack up and go home. They analyze what went wrong and how to avoid repeating it the next time.

Checking the Rig

Engineers inspect the equipment for what failed. Was it a bad cable, a power surge, or operator error?

They make a note for future shows, altering their setup or preparation to prevent repetition.

Scheduled Maintenance

Proper maintenance of equipment is essential. Engineers clean and inspect cables, test connectors, and ensure all gear is stored safely to avoid wear and tear.

Buying from reputable audio shops plays a role here. Reliable equipment often comes with better warranties and support, making maintenance and troubleshooting more manageable.

Why the Show Must Go On

At the core of it, live sound engineers ensure that things run smoothly and seemless when everything else fails. Their capacity to remain level-headed, critical, and capable of solving complex problems in critical moments is what makes magic come alive for an audience.

By nature, live events are unpredictable, and there is no way to ensure that nothing will go wrong. However, with preparation, quick thinking, and the right tools, live sound engineers can handle unexpected equipment failures like pros.

So the next time you’re enjoying a concert or event, spare a thought for the engineers working tirelessly behind the scenes. They’re the reason the show goes on, no matter what happens.