open III
Kristian
today is sunday october 02, 2022. this remix was very challenging. yesterday i had finished it, with another acapella from snowflake. but snowflake and i were not satisfied with the remix. (i don’t communicate by electronic means with anyone on this site, only through the music). :) so i worked on the remix for 3 hours today, tried different acapellas but ended up going back to snowflake. i don’t know it sounds big but also small. and it sounds harmonic but also dissonant. i don’t know, maybe i need some distance from the song. the chords are from a celine dion song, but remixed of course.
now i’m about to drive past the european central bank and a smaller cloud data center to my mother’s house. i need a bit of a change.
good morning europe and good night america.
…
did i mention that on wednesday an a+r scout offered me to send demos to some godless label with a public comment under one of my worst songs? the track like so many others from that time was cobbled together with 5 second samples from songkits of mine. anyway i laughed at him. because my biggest dream is to get a foothold in the music business and get money for someone to put brainless songs of mine that gen z likes on the charts with money transfers to indian clickfarms. no i have no bigger dream in this world.
how did the cableguy who made my tv tuner work again say a few months ago when my music made this big leap artistically?.:
you want to save the world in hd, with a cheap cable.
speaking of saving the world:
there’s a new trend on tiktok. drones vs bums. drone pilots fly over these third world slums in the big cities of the usa and provoke cr@ckjunkies and h3roin addicts in their shabby dwellings. anyway, the drone pilot records how the poor bums throw stones and bottles at the drones, which after all damage the last remnants of their privacy and humanity. that’s the latest trend on tikok, anyway.
on the other hand, the mentally unstable people in germany look different. just now, i saw a live video of a t3enager in mental derangement painting his face with felt pens in a psychiatric ward. he got some worried comments from his classmates, i suppose. anyway, i put a smile on his face: i commented on the question why he was doing that, saying he was making himself beautiful for the visit.
then i left live. the whole thing was too oppressive. in 17 years, i was in the ward once.
anyway, yesterday i drove my ford pony to the psychiatrist to pick up my sick note, so that the state will continue to transfer money to me for making music and leave me alone. and as i sit in the practice, a young woman of maybe 22 years sits next to me and talks loudly to herself: girl (there was no girl there except her) you are very bad. and i’ll report you. you belong to the mafia. you can’t do anything to me…and so on. then it was her turn and after 5 minutes ann kathrin the young nice looking psychiatrist came out with her and asked the nurse: they do have a place? that has to happen quickly now.
for the uninitiated. it was about a place in the psychiatric ward in the hospital.
then ann kathrin came up to me, i stood up with my black sweatpants and black hoodie as always, smiled at her for the uncomplicated monthly sick leave, and she smiled at me from below she is a little shorter than me and doesn’t look me in the eyes. i thanked her and walked out.
yes there is no bigger wish or dream in my life than to get into the music charts generated by indian clickbot farms through a godless music label and earn a few dollars. and put myself in the charts next to male white jokers who emphasize their femininity or next to black jokers who rap about stabbing and selling ganja with the help of allah.
and my biggest dream is to get into the us charts that nobody cares about these days and join the koreans, latinos and blacks. and the whites who walk on eggshells.
and now i hear usa from dubioza kolektiv.
good morning europe, good evening oceania and good night america.
now i’m about to drive past the european central bank and a smaller cloud data center to my mother’s house. i need a bit of a change.
good morning europe and good night america.
…
did i mention that on wednesday an a+r scout offered me to send demos to some godless label with a public comment under one of my worst songs? the track like so many others from that time was cobbled together with 5 second samples from songkits of mine. anyway i laughed at him. because my biggest dream is to get a foothold in the music business and get money for someone to put brainless songs of mine that gen z likes on the charts with money transfers to indian clickfarms. no i have no bigger dream in this world.
how did the cableguy who made my tv tuner work again say a few months ago when my music made this big leap artistically?.:
you want to save the world in hd, with a cheap cable.
speaking of saving the world:
there’s a new trend on tiktok. drones vs bums. drone pilots fly over these third world slums in the big cities of the usa and provoke cr@ckjunkies and h3roin addicts in their shabby dwellings. anyway, the drone pilot records how the poor bums throw stones and bottles at the drones, which after all damage the last remnants of their privacy and humanity. that’s the latest trend on tikok, anyway.
on the other hand, the mentally unstable people in germany look different. just now, i saw a live video of a t3enager in mental derangement painting his face with felt pens in a psychiatric ward. he got some worried comments from his classmates, i suppose. anyway, i put a smile on his face: i commented on the question why he was doing that, saying he was making himself beautiful for the visit.
then i left live. the whole thing was too oppressive. in 17 years, i was in the ward once.
anyway, yesterday i drove my ford pony to the psychiatrist to pick up my sick note, so that the state will continue to transfer money to me for making music and leave me alone. and as i sit in the practice, a young woman of maybe 22 years sits next to me and talks loudly to herself: girl (there was no girl there except her) you are very bad. and i’ll report you. you belong to the mafia. you can’t do anything to me…and so on. then it was her turn and after 5 minutes ann kathrin the young nice looking psychiatrist came out with her and asked the nurse: they do have a place? that has to happen quickly now.
for the uninitiated. it was about a place in the psychiatric ward in the hospital.
then ann kathrin came up to me, i stood up with my black sweatpants and black hoodie as always, smiled at her for the uncomplicated monthly sick leave, and she smiled at me from below she is a little shorter than me and doesn’t look me in the eyes. i thanked her and walked out.
yes there is no bigger wish or dream in my life than to get into the music charts generated by indian clickbot farms through a godless music label and earn a few dollars. and put myself in the charts next to male white jokers who emphasize their femininity or next to black jokers who rap about stabbing and selling ganja with the help of allah.
and my biggest dream is to get into the us charts that nobody cares about these days and join the koreans, latinos and blacks. and the whites who walk on eggshells.
and now i hear usa from dubioza kolektiv.
good morning europe, good evening oceania and good night america.