At last, I have found my music taste,
a long journey culminated by an increasingly depleting rhythmic variation pulled me here at last.

Dark academia began the first layer in search of my state of being,
but it was too melodical, too instrumental.
That's when I dove into Goetia.
I must give credit to him for capturing my soul in moments of air between greater melodies.

Lest, they would interrupt those bark harks, and so I went on searching.

Unto the Buddhist mantras landing,
yes, oh-so-hum brought me ever closer to the frequency of my own flesh,
but even the toneless phrase was infused with time by supporting drum beats, saving it from a succession of monotonous breath.

I at last looked up flat frequencies.
Yes, the words I searched for were just that:
"monotone," "dull," and "flat."

And I did find one background noise,
it was the underworld alternative for white noise,
and if dark could be flattened into sound,
it was that.

But still, yet it was missing something, something,
although a very low octave to match myself,
still yet marked by frequency.
And this single noise, although perfectly flat, tickled into a myriad of modular pitches making it up, and over time I felt this...
a following pain of fluctuation would get me to jolt in the middle of the track, and so I,
unknowingly began lowering the volume
lower
lower
to reach nothing at last
there it was.

I could not believe my ears. I closed my eyes, I gasped,
nothing at last.

Bathing in the depth of my real taste, the only sound thus heard was that of my own blood echoing inside this flesh.

A seashell, a seashell,
this is why I encapsulate myself in the depth beyond that coming deck.

Indeed, I dive,
I dive,

and maybe one day,
I'll die

and reach nothing at last,
nothing at last.

Alas, I digress.

Now where was I?

Ah, yes.

Life.
A gill-less lie.