Music Library

“They say it’s survival, say it’s us or them.” “No Choice (They Say)” is a dark cinematic hip-hop track about how genocidal violence gets packaged as “self-defence” and “survival.” It digs into propaganda, fear-mongering, and the way leaders erase third options by repeating one line: “We have no choice.”

“I’m carrying two flags in one skin.” “Two Flags, One Skin” is an atmospheric electronic / art-pop song about living inside two clashing moral worlds. It follows someone torn between loyalty to their “side” and love for the people they’re told are enemies—until their identity starts to crack under the contradiction.

“If the goal never lands, can you live with what you’ve done?” “Ends and Means” is a conscious hip-hop track about moral grey zones: when we justify ugly actions with pretty goals. It asks what’s left if the plan fails and all you’re left with are the methods you used on real people.

"Redemption isn’t spoken, it’s the life that you construct. Less about forgiveness, more about showing up." “Build It Back” is an emotional alt-rock song about atonement as building, not begging. It’s for when “I’m sorry” is nowhere near enough—and the only real apology is changing your life, your systems, and your impact. This track leans into responsibility over performance: no halo, no victim act, just the slow, unglamorous work of rebuilding after you’ve caused harm.

"I don’t need a villain, I don’t need a cure. Addiction’s just a motor pointed at the wrong door." “Empty-Calorie Dreams” is a lo-fi existential hip-hop track about binge watching, cheap dopamine, and the moment you realise none of it feeds what you actually value. It’s not a moral panic about addiction—just a quiet audit: if the last 6 months of entertainment vanished, what would actually remain? This song sits in that gap between comfort and meaning, between the glow of the screen and the question of what you really want your life to be about.

"Give me leaders who admit they’re small. Still building something brave through the possible." “Scars on the Blueprint” is a philosophical indie folk song about the difference between earned idealism and utopian fantasy. It’s for people who still believe in “better worlds”, but only after they’ve been through loss, failure, and responsibility. Hope that’s walked through fire instead of floating above reality.

"I wear the mask, I take the pain, Break, rebuild, and break again." Ken Kaneki’s story isn’t about being a flawless hero — it’s about breaking, failing, carrying guilt, and still choosing to stand up again. This song is inspired by his journey through Tokyo Ghoul (Seasons 1–3): from a shy college boy with books in his hands, to a tortured ghoul fighting for his friends, to a symbol of hope who accepts both his sins and his will to protect.

If the root is cracked, the fruit won’t heal, I’ve got to find the roots of the real. This song was inspired by Square One: The Foundations of Knowledge by Steven Patterson. Chapter one hit me like a wake-up call: if the roots of your worldview are flawed, then no matter how many branches of knowledge you grow, the whole tree is fragile. Most of us protect our roots at all costs — even if it means guarding illusions we’ve lived in for decades. But what if the bravest thing is to question them? To dig deeper, even when it hurts, and rebuild on something real?

I’ve already shared I Am Not That before — but this is a different take. A stripped-back, psychedelic-acoustic version with unconventional chord turns, more space to breathe, and a slow, evolving structure. It’s born from those nights when the mind won’t stop spinning — chasing titles, praise, and progress. But underneath all that noise, there’s a quieter voice reminding: “I am not that.” If you’ve ever felt the pull of ego, then the release beyond it — this version might sit differently with you.

The higher purpose never fades, It waits for me beyond the shade. This song is a call to myself (and maybe to you): to rise, to burn through mediocrity, to live awake.

"No knower. No known. No center to see. No 'I' left to say who’s asking to be." This one isn’t just a song — it’s a conversation turned inside out. It started with a simple question: How do we know what we know? We followed the thread past childhood conditioning, beyond gravity, beyond the idea of “I” itself… until there was nothing left to hold onto. No self. No capital-T Truth. Just… this. 🎧 The Truth That Unmade Me is for anyone who’s ever stared into the void and felt the void staring back — and maybe smiled. If you’ve questioned everything you’ve been taught, or stripped away your beliefs until you found nothing at the center, this one’s for you. Do you think there’s any such thing as absolute truth? Or is everything we “know” just a story?

"Not flashy, not profound. Just this moment, just this sound." Ever wonder how much of what you "know" is just what you were taught to believe? This song came out of a deep conversation about truth, reality, and the stories we tell ourselves. From the moment we're born, we're shaped by our culture, our language, our upbringing - but what happens when you start questioning everything you think you know? 🎵 The Journey: We all live in different worlds, even watching the same movie Maybe truth isn't some flashy revelation, but something ordinary and immediate What if the constant "me, me, me" story in our heads is what's blocking us from seeing what's actually here? Sometimes the most honest answer is "I don't know"