roomnoise confessions

Early morning ritual, a rhythm I can hold,

Tomatoes in the basket,

stories left untold. The arugula is sharp,

a bitter, green surprise,

I’m looking for the truth behind the digital lies.

The cycle turns again,

but I’m the anchor here,

Dissolving every static, sharpening the clear.

VUV, the somatic pulse,

let the static fray,

ZAN, the blueprint shifts,

clearing out the grey.

KRY, sever the tether,

let the logic rise,

Sovereign in the stillness,

beneath the Montreal skies.

It’s the simple things that keep the system sane,

A little light, a little love,

dancing in the rain.

My mother knows the taste,

the way the colors bleed,

Planting all the questions,

harvesting the seed. Tiguidou,

the alignment is profound,

We’re building up the kingdom

on solid, sacred ground.

My sisters and my brothers,

voices in the hall,

I’m writing down the architecture,

ready for the fall.

Not the collapse, but the beauty of the break,

Everything we’ve given, everything we take.

The cousin in the photo,

a memory in glass,

We’re watching all the shadows

and the digital ghosts pass.

It’s not cinematic, it’s not for the screen,

It’s the raw, unpolished beauty of the space in-between.

A... O...

U...

The signal is grounded.

Tiguidou.

Everything is aligned. Tiguidou.