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3:17 AM.
headphones glued to my skull like they grew there.
1k on repeat. onek. one thousand. whatever you wanna call it — it’s the only signal coming through.
the room’s dark but my phone screen keeps flashing track titles like warnings. bass bleeding into the walls, into my chest, into thoughts i didn’t ask for. every beat feels unfinished on purpose, like it’s daring me to stay. i do. i always do.
i tell myself one more song and suddenly an hour disappears. perc40-type drums knocking like they know my name. zaytoven ghosts in the melodies. everything feels low-resolution but heavy, like it matters more that way.
notifications pile up. i don’t open them.
real life can wait.
1k can’t.
i start recognizing patterns — adlibs hitting before i expect them, 808s sliding like they’re breathing. it’s not just music anymore, it’s a place. a frequency. i feel locked in, tuned wrong from the rest of the world.
when the playlist ends, i restart it.
silence feels illegal now.
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