After that?
There was a time when life actually meant something to me
I used to think I had reasons to stay alive
to pay off my father’s debts
to build a future with a girl I loved
to make something out of myself
or maybe just to see my art travel into places where my body never could
I used to care so much
I wanted to prove people wrong.
the ones who judged my talent based on old releases.
the ones who hear one weak song and decide your entire worth as an artist.
I wanted to disappear for a while, grow in silence, then come back and throw something undeniable in their faces!
Look…. This is who I really was the whole time
This is what I was capable of creating!
For the last 2-3 years, I’ve been waking up and working nonstop till night.
Every single day
So much work that somewhere in between, the human disappeared and only the machine survived
Earlier, making music felt magical.
Now it feels nothing
Earlier even a trash song could make me happy for 2-3 days after release.
Now I can spend weeks creating something beautiful, something technically insane, emotionally raw…
and still feel absolutely nothing after uploading it.
No excitement, na relief, na pride
Bas silence..
Like some part of me already died and nobody noticed because the body kept working
And honestly?
I think people misunderstand pain
The opposite of pain isn’t happiness…
It’s numbness
That phase where you don’t even cry anymore
you just watch yourself slowly rot from the inside while still replying to messages…. meeting deadlines, posting stories and pretending everything’s normal
I used to imagine futures
Now I mostly imagine endings!
nd there’s a very thin line between being suicidal and just being exhausted with existence
Not everyone wants to die
Some people are just tired of carrying their own mind every day
Weird thing is…
the same art that kept me alive also slowly consumed me
At this point, I just want to release everything that’s trapped inside me
All the songs
All the poems
All the thoughts rotting in silence
I just want to put them out into the world before I disappear emotionally beyond repair
After that?
I genuinely don’t know.
Maybe the debt gets paid
Maybe it doesn’t
Maybe people finally understand me
Maybe they don’t
Maybe I stay
Maybe I don’t
Idc anymore…
Life doesn’t feel like something I’m living now
It feels like something I’m documenting before it ends
And the truth is…
I know I’ve made bad songs
Average songs
Half-baked projects
Some decent ones
Some genuinely beautiful ones too
nd honestly?
even the stuff I’ll release in the future might still follow that same pattern.
different versions of me exist inside different tracks
but I can never reject my own art completely
Even the flawed projects matter to me.
Even the messy songs.
Because every failed release still taught me something
Every weak verse still carried a real emotion
Every imperfect project was still a piece of survival
But one thing I know for sure is this…
The amount I’ve grown in the last 1-2 years…
I’ve never grown like this before
That fire was always inside me
Sometimes it showed itself in flashes
Sometimes in random lines
Random songs
Random moments
At this point, I don’t even care about the album anymore.
maybe I’ll drop songs one by one whenever life gives me enough time to breathe
maybe if time finally stops choking me for a second, I’ll upload the whole album together or maybe I won’t
I genuinely don’t know anymore
Even the idea of an ALBUM doesn’t excite me now the way it used to.
I just want to stay alive long enough to release everything I’ve already created.
That’s it.
The new songs, old songs, unfinished songs…. poems nobody heard…
the versions of me trapped inside hard drives and notes apps and midnight recordings
I just want them to exist in the world before I disappear mentally beyond repair..
maybe by then the house debt gets cleared too
Maybe not
I don’t know what’s gonna happen.
I’m just tired….
I WANT to stay motivated.
I WANT to live properly again.
I WANT to feel excited about music again.
But somewhere between survival, pressure, expectations and nonstop work…
I lost something inside myself.
I couldn’t release a single song in 2025.
An entire year disappeared.
And I know if I repeat that mistake again this year, I’ll completely destroy myself from the inside
So I don’t care anymore who stays and who leaves
Who supports me and who doesn’t
Who understands me and who never will
I just want to spend this year releasing everything I’ve created
new….old….whatevr exists
I just want to LIVE this year through my art somehow.
After that?
I genuinely don’t know
I don’t really expect anything from anyone anymore…..
टिप्पणियाँ
एक टिप्पणी भेजें