tell me whats up

The rumble of the underground, theft at the bus stop, holes in the brain scan, endless ‘what the hell?’ thoughts inside your head - all this mixes into a chaotic stream of thoughts that is both nauseating and funny. It's like a confession, but also like a stand-up routine about life, where depression is just a word in the lexicon, and belief in conspiracies coexists with concern for friends who are ‘behind bars.’

The pulsating beat holds you like a nicotine hit: sharp, bitter, but necessary until the emptiness floods in. There are no genres, rules or propriety here - just a restless brain locked within four walls and the desire to shout one simple question to the world: ‘What's going on?’