Podcast appearances and mentions of Bibi Bourelly

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Olesia Glants – MovinZACH BILCSIK – CavesZACH BILCSIK – Character CreationZACH BILCSIK – Energy ReservesDon Pasquale Ferone – Insieme a luiYuri Rydkin – PocketRicky Forest – Oh What a LadyFUGUE – AnywayOsea Codega – JokeHarry Kappen – Cool downviisi - everything but youEricka Nicole Malone - I'm ClimbinTAVE – No More Maybes ft. Bibi Bourelly and India ShawnD Train - The Time Has Come TodayPrimaluce – Simple SunriseAce Blizzy – Pray 4 StormsTony Newbury – Route 9Nikitaa – Pillow PrinceThe Badly Behaved – High as Hell (Radio Edit)Flowtek and Azagaia - Block QueenDerrick Washington – Sexy LadyAdam Lanceley - I'm Easy With YouRicko – Time Don't WaitLouise Dearman - Ordinary WorldBig Yard – MelodyALCHEMICAL XP – PARADISE KISSLady Redneck - You First loved mePharmacists – Heart Of The NationL-Rhose - Every nightSallis/ Paul Benney - Breathe sadact, Quentin Hartz - All We Need TH&O - Lonely? Come Along Cosme De La Cruz – EphemeralCodey Lee James – CaptivatedJoe Lington – Pinkeen

Yuri Rydkin – PocketRicky Forest – Oh What a LadyFUGUE – AnywayOsea Codega – JokeHarry Kappen – Cool downviisi - everything but youEricka Nicole Malone - I'm ClimbinTAVE – No More Maybes ft. Bibi Bourelly and India ShawnD Train - The Time Has Come TodayPrimaluce – Simple SunriseAce Blizzy – Pray 4 StormsTony Newbury – Route 9Nikitaa – Pillow PrinceThe Badly Behaved – High as Hell (Radio Edit)Flowtek and Azagaia - Block QueenDerrick Washington – Sexy LadyAdam Lanceley - I'm Easy With YouRicko – Time Don't WaitLouise Dearman - Ordinary WorldBig Yard – MelodyALCHEMICAL XP – PARADISE KISSClaudio Cirimele – Senza domaniAndrees Kalì - Sei Alease feat. Bluombre - Io sono ribelleK-SYRAN – I Can't FeelMik Ivy – SupermanMichael Harrison – Just Wanna Play Some Rock And RollQueen Lady Elvira – Angel BoyQueen Lady Elvira - You are the man who is giving me so much power.Queen Lady Elvira – We will kiss all nightThe Tony Project –The Second danceRuffstar-My Loveline

MAX ON WAX – FijiALLY CRIBB – NOWBARBIE BANDZ – Got it on me (feat styles p_JASON MAYER – Kind of WildJOHN GUSDON – MADNESSROSS KING – Next TrainMELO ROZE – Young ForeverSUNSET SALORE – Call ItCAVN – Late AugustTALLY KOREN – 1000 STARSArrameia Auraire Araiss - "Light Up Your Star"DIDE – HumanDerrick Washington – Feeling youDerrick Washington – I'm Feeling MyselfDerrick Washington – ListenYwetry - In The Middle Of The NightNadine Randle – Man Up (Henky Remix)WEXTER1K - PAKKS INN FREESTYLEFOR YOU BROTHER – Nice MoneyDJ RAUNY – Sunshine DreamsPiuma – FossileAnima Nera – Per teMaeve De Voe – ClassicMia Catalina - Otra GalaxiaTHE DUTCHMAN JOKER (T LIME RECORDS) – GOD'S GLOVEPlasma Chasms – Interstellar BabySour Ops – EvangelineKim Chuah – CoolTAVE – No More Maybes ft. Bibi Bourelly and India ShawnEricka Nicole Malone - I'm ClimbinD Train - The Time Has Come TodayPrimaluce – Simple SunriseAce Blizzy – Pray 4 StormsTony Newbury – Route 9Big May202 - Pissed off

Yuri Rydkin – PocketRicky Forest – Oh What a LadyFUGUE – AnywayOsea Codega – JokeHarry Kappen – Cool downviisi - everything but youEricka Nicole Malone - I'm ClimbinTAVE – No More Maybes ft. Bibi Bourelly and India ShawnD Train - The Time Has Come TodayPrimaluce – Simple SunriseAce Blizzy – Pray 4 StormsTony Newbury – Route 9Nikitaa – Pillow PrinceThe Badly Behaved – High as Hell (Radio Edit)Flowtek and Azagaia - Block QueenDerrick Washington – Sexy LadyAdam Lanceley - I'm Easy With YouRicko – Time Don't WaitLouise Dearman - Ordinary WorldBig Yard – MelodyALCHEMICAL XP – PARADISE KISSClaudio Cirimele – Senza domaniAndrees Kalì - Sei Alease feat. Bluombre - Io sono ribelleK-SYRAN – I Can't FeelMik Ivy – SupermanMichael Harrison – Just Wanna Play Some Rock And RollQueen Lady Elvira – Angel BoyQueen Lady Elvira - You are the man who is giving me so much power.Queen Lady Elvira – We will kiss all nightThe Tony Project –The Second danceRuffstar-My Loveline

TAMARA KRAMAR – Made you upNYASIA CHANE'L – FORCEPEPE AND THE BANDITS – Gods DrummerFADED ROSE – Rolling StonesYuri Rydkin – PocketRicky Forest – Oh What a LadyFUGUE – AnywayOsea Codega – JokeHarry Kappen – Cool downviisi - everything but youEricka Nicole Malone - I'm ClimbinTAVE – No More Maybes ft. Bibi Bourelly and India ShawnD Train - The Time Has Come TodayPrimaluce – Simple SunriseAce Blizzy – Pray 4 StormsTony Newbury – Route 9Nikitaa – Pillow PrinceThe Badly Behaved – High as Hell (Radio Edit)Flowtek and Azagaia - Block QueenAdam Lanceley - I'm Easy With YouRicko – Time Don't WaitLouise Dearman - Ordinary WorldBig Yard – MelodyALCHEMICAL XP – PARADISE KISSK-SYRAN – I Can't FeelPharmacists – Heart Of The NationL-Rhose - Every nightSallis/ Paul Benney - Breathe sadact, Quentin Hartz - All We Need TH&O - Lonely? Come Along Cosme De La Cruz – EphemeralCodey Lee James – CaptivatedCorinne Caza – Tempting Too

MIA MUZE – Storm RebornKERIAH – Another ChanceMICHELLE THIBODEAUX – UnemploymentALEX KATE – Lost SoldierCHANDRA – LiftedSTREAMER – Time Flies ByFEYE – Maybe TomorrowREINA MORA – WeedsBUNCH OF ACE – EverydayBLUEPRINT TOKYO – Mission ControlYuri Rydkin – PocketRicky Forest – Oh What a LadyFUGUE – AnywayOsea Codega – JokeHarry Kappen – Cool downviisi - everything but youEricka Nicole Malone - I'm ClimbinTAVE – No More Maybes ft. Bibi Bourelly and India ShawnD Train - The Time Has Come TodayPrimaluce – Simple SunriseAce Blizzy – Pray 4 StormsTony Newbury – Route 9Nikitaa – Pillow PrinceThe Badly Behaved – High as Hell (Radio Edit)Flowtek and Azagaia - Block QueenDerrick Washington – Sexy LadyAdam Lanceley - I'm Easy With YouRicko – Time Don't WaitLouise Dearman - Ordinary WorldBig Yard – MelodyALCHEMICAL XP – PARADISE KISSLady Redneck - You First loved me

Alease feat. Bluombre - Io sono ribelleTHE SCREAMING POPE – Let you downPIGLETS DDEEP FOREST – I'll Keep You WarmHannah Napier Rosenberg – Until I Thought of Myself as the SeaJustin Matley, Everett Bradley – Ave MariaMichelle Willis – I wandered lonely as a cloudJosh Dion – We Shall Always BeKhylie Rylo, Rena Shebesta – BubblesMatt DeChamplain, Atla DeChamplain – The World is Waiting for the sunrise / Blue SkiesJustin Matley, Connie Martino – Twinkle, Twinkle, Little StarPaul Robert Wright, Timothy Paul Harrington – Night OwlHannah Napier Rosenberg – For RenaMICHAL GUTMAN – BehkiYuri Rydkin – PocketRicky Forest – Oh What a LadyFUGUE – AnywayOsea Codega – JokeHarry Kappen – Cool downviisi - everything but youEricka Nicole Malone - I'm ClimbinTAVE – No More Maybes ft. Bibi Bourelly and India ShawnD Train - The Time Has Come TodayPrimaluce – Simple SunriseAce Blizzy – Pray 4 StormsTony Newbury – Route 9Nikitaa – Pillow PrinceThe Badly Behaved – High as Hell (Radio Edit)Flowtek and Azagaia - Block QueenAva Monroe – Tell Me All About ItDerrick Washington – Sexy LadyThe Thinkers – Let's Go!Adam Lanceley - I'm Easy With YouChris Chitsey – Every small town

LOUIE THE PRODUCER – Better than nothingPHAT PROBLEM - We Shall Not Be MovedCARSON ADAY – The Hope I Gave YouSEEMA FARSWANI – Got my Mojo WorkingMICHAL GUTMAN – ArchitectureYuri Rydkin – PocketRicky Forest – Oh What a LadyFUGUE – AnywayOsea Codega – JokeHarry Kappen – Cool downviisi - everything but youEricka Nicole Malone - I'm ClimbinTAVE – No More Maybes ft. Bibi Bourelly and India ShawnD Train - The Time Has Come TodayPrimaluce – Simple SunriseAce Blizzy – Pray 4 StormsTony Newbury – Route 9Nikitaa – Pillow PrinceThe Badly Behaved – High as Hell (Radio Edit)Flowtek and Azagaia - Block QueenAlexa - Hall of fame Ava Monroe – Tell Me All About ItDerrick Washington – Sexy LadyThe Thinkers – Let's Go!Friday In California – Pretty / ScaryK-SYRAN – I Can't FeelAdam Lanceley - I'm Easy With YouRicko – Time Don't WaitLouise Dearman - Ordinary WorldBig Yard – MelodyALCHEMICAL XP – PARADISE KISSClaudio Cirimele – Senza domaniAndrees Kalì - Sei ZACH BILCSIK – Character Creation

Long before anyone was a Belieber and Justin Bieber became a household name, Shani Gonzales was already a fan. This instinctive foresight and her unwavering self-confidence have been the cornerstones of her illustrious career, culminating in her present positions. Shani holds the dual roles of Executive Vice President and Managing Director at Warner Chappell Music UK and the Head of International A&R at Warner Chappell Music. Her track record in the music business is distinguished by her knack for signing and guiding some of the most influential artists of our time, including DJ Khaled, Juice Wrld, and Bibi Bourelly, who has penned hits for the likes of Camila Cabello, Rihanna, and Selena Gomez. Among the high-caliber talents she has played a part in developing are Labrinth, Justin Bieber, MeLo-X, Nate Cyphert (famous for his work with Florida Georgia Line), Nic Nac (linked with Chris Brown and DJ Khaled), Poo Bear, P2J (producer for superstars like Beyoncé, Doja Cat, WizKid), Saint Jhn, Travis Scott, and WondaGurl, known for her production work with Drake and Rihanna.   In her leadership capacity at Warner Chappell Music UK, and in tandem with her A&R international duties, Gonzales is pivotal in broadening the publisher's UK roster. She selects artists with a focus on diversity and has been influential in acquiring talents such as BOJ, Central Cee, Daniel Blumberg, Emma-Jean Thackray, Legendury Beatz, P2J, and The Snuts. Her advocacy for international cooperation has been relentless, ensuring that Warner Chappell Music's global network of esteemed artists works together harmoniously, fostering cross-border artistic partnerships.   Shani's extraordinary career achievements, while a product of her relentless effort, are also a testament to the influence of her Jamaican and Trinidadian heritage, thanks to her parents' unwavering support, open-mindedness, and nurturing.   In this discussion, we delve into the nuances of managing one of the leading publishing divisions within a major music company. We explore how Shani synergizes her seasoned judgment with the fresh perspectives of her team, even in areas where she continues to grow. And, we'll uncover her three key strategic plays. You can follow Shani on IG: https://www.instagram.com/shani927/ Join the community and sign up to the newsletter at ⁠⁠⁠⁠www.meetpursuit.com⁠⁠⁠⁠ and don't forget to follow us on IG at @meetpursuit ⁠⁠⁠⁠www.instagram.com/meetpursuit/⁠⁠⁠⁠ This is an AiAi Studios Production - ⁠⁠⁠⁠www.aiaistudios.com⁠⁠⁠⁠ IG: @aiai.studios   This podcast was recorded in April 2023.

“She's going through my bag.” I thought to myself– the warm running shower over the back of my neck returning me fully to my body; It had taken something like an hour to return to myself– still within and yet so far out of my body, that the twisting and turning cosmic purple light of my natural aura became all of me, as, whisked away through space and time, pushed and pulled through all of the trauma I had endured certainly over the last few years alone, but the entirety of my lifetime–it had all been part of something bigger and greater than I could have known–supposedly all in my control, and yet seemingly not-so at all. I could feel her in the other room, checking my bag–she would find the sage that I had meant to burn in the bathroom during my shower, and yet had been in such a state that I only grabbed my clothes, unwilling to go to the gym: my honesty had again betrayed my own safety–earlier, my roommate asking where I had gone in the late night/early morning before, and my response, which was honest, only confirmed why I had come to the conclusion not once but many times that honesty will only ever hurt you —I had learned well and under the excruciating pain of reality that any vampire, vulture, or entity alone would take honesty as weakness, only to be used against you; I had reached the tipping point in being taken advantage of—I was hungry, owed money, and out of sorts—my new roommate was off in a number of ways, but I was no longer willing to be subjected to whatever experiment at wlll—I had for years been a test rat, my suicidal tendencies, notions, and ideations often vilified, but justifiable nonetheless. ‘I tell the truth!” , the words of Bibi Bourelly, of course one of many of Sonny's suspected lovers, rang in my ears sometimes, as I teetered on the grounds of morality in the under relms of poverty, where people as often as ever lied, stole, or otherwise continually broke more codes and societal expectations in order to get by, or even get ahead – “It's deep, but it ain't that deep.”--more words apparently by the “wise” Bibi, one of the handful of the always-priviliaged, raised-rich spoiled brats Sonny kept in his arsenal, himself a mere tool of the psychological torture which I was certain would eventually end my life, but certainly had halted my affinity for any career or ambition in music whatsoever anyway–not that I cared much for anything. I understood now that I was being controlled and manipulated at nearly every corner–sorted into the overall trash pile of other miserable and useless slaves and subhuman beings marked unfit, and of course–after whatever had happened with my former roommate, now had an increasingly irritating annoyance of the pestering new roommate, who was otherwise nice and sweet, but of course to the point of suspicion. I had left my body long enough to think about anything and everything that night—and after the amount of wrong that I had endured, the meltdown bad been a longtime coming. I had been discarded as trash, thrown to the wolves, and completely abandoned by anyone and everyone but God itself, all other forms of love a sheer illusion—another form of attachment I had only learned to sever under the cruel injustice and inequality of the world. My body was merely a shell—all else formed around it a paradox. My roommate often at random brought up events or subjects from my own past that I wished not to talk about, at first altering me to the notion that she may be some kind of therapist or psychologist–maybe even military. She claimed to be Japanese and also have lived in Germany for 20 years–sad herself to have been in the Homeless system for over four years, and “trapped” in the united states unable to work due to a lack of social security number; There were many things about her story I found off or strange and very odd–and so I knew never to trust her or anyone else for that matter– but it was the fact that she had brought up Shamanism first and foremost without me having so much as a word about anything, of course, coupled with the oddity that she would grind her teeth throughout the night as did my estranged ex husband and former roommate: a disease which I learned only affected 10-30% of the population in total: I suspected of course for the entire program to be some covert operation: The State was in fact, the same regime responsible for, just after the death of my son, fueled by lack of sleep from grief – tied me to a bed (though I had bee cooperative and non-violent) overdosed me involuntarily with a strange medication and allowed me to urinate myself, then lay for hours soaked in urine–and only after days of psychological abuse and torture, forcing me to talk to a Mormon Bishop, and sedating me with heavy doses of lithium— which deemed me unable to talk, move, or speak for several days–and caused me excruciating migraines—all for the sake of psychological experimentation. Of course, this was still The United States of America, a Globalist Republic– and of course, I was still a black woman–the most demonized, traumatized, criminalized existence on the face of the earth. My new roommate had talked openly for days about being attacked by some kind of spirit or demon, which forced her to gain weight; a demonic type force that supposedly sat in her stomach for and implanted certain thoughts in the form of voice in her head– at the same time, she had been increasingly adamant that I never burn sage or palo santo–she had already proven herself to be a snitch, as in the early morning hours of my first morning as her roomate, the Operations team flooded in, opened my drawer, and of course confiscated my $8 sage stick, luckily overlooking the palo santo–she of course pretended not to have narced, but over the coming days would allow it to slip that she had indeed told the Operations team of the sage, which caused them to follow up and confiscate it. I found Sage to be crucial to my protection and part of my religious sanctity: That anyhow, I had been made to eventually kill myself or fall prey to the system which would in any other way ensure that I was made to become ill by way of poor nutrition– The system failed to provide vegan or even vegetarian meals, and of course the same system made sure that my food benefits were handed out irregularly–I often had no money to eat at all, and just as well drifted into the memory of one of my last conversations with the host of the air bnb I had stayed at, who also seemed to have been on some kind of agenda–he had also constantly brought up things that I didn't want to talk about, consistently forcing conversations about race relations, the race war, how oppressed black people are, The White Supremacy, and other nightmarish perception-altering and overall negative assertions, leaving me with this: “I had to steal food!”, he said, claiming having once been homeless himself–a story I neither wanted to hear or honestly belied. It had been long since I could trust anyone besides myself, but especially a man–not that color had much to do with it, besides of course my constantly being reminded that I was stuck black. ‘All the more reason not to care.' I thought, my apathy becoming an overriding factor. I was starving–and though not quite in the actual stages of starvation, which I had staved off by eating genetically modified fruit over the last couple of days– which didn't appear to have any nutritional value at all and certainly didn't give my body any energy I could use, especially not to take the grueling one-hour ride to the dirty, overrun gym–which at least had a sauna and was 24 hours–but useless, as the sauna was closed during the overnight hours when I wanted to go, escaping my new roomates controlling habits, forceful talks equipped with code words and subliminal messages, the pesterance of being unable to cleanse the room with sage, and, of course — her almost nightmarish sensitivity to everything, which included light, the music in my headphones being too loud (so much so that I could hear the city noise over anything I could in my headphones, and of course made it impossible to work in ableton, as everything I did as she tried to sleep was “too loud”--even writing was forbidden, as I one had had been typing away at the 7th season's script and she asked that I not type at al– nor could I use my mixer, as the button pressing was “too loud”, and while most of my musical inspiration came at night, I could see that for whatever purpose, this person was being used to manipulate and control me once more- No burning sage, no making mixtapes, no typing… “You have the whole day when I am gone, you can do whatever you want.”, she said As if I myself didn't have things to do during the day–just getting to and from the gym taking stretches of precious time alone–of course met with another method of psychological torture– the constant drilling, hammering, and knocking about in the room directly above mine–which sometimes of course felt like being opened from the inside out, my synestesia poking holes in my sanity-and while that should have been enough of an excuse to spend all of my days at the gym–the gym itself had become a way for the system to control and manipulate my mind, for even as my body grew stronger, my mind grew weak and muddled being followed around by little white girls swinging their hair in my face, people coughing all around, and trash everywhere I had fallen into a heap of despair, as the combination of the date alone, the research I had been doing, the work I wasn't getting done, the money I wasn't making, and the lack of nutrition set in–the night shift operations refusing to allow me to use the can opener, after I had left it atop the microwave and not “put it in his hands”-- a classic misogynistic, controlling black man, he always gave the residents a terrible attitude, but I had no reason myself to dislike him before this moment. “I don't have to let you use the can opener.” He said. My only food for days had come from the food bank, besies the free GMO-fruit the shelter sometimes handed out, which had been making me sick and lethargic; of course, because it had come from a food bank, they required a can-opener–as the luxury of a pop-top had rarely been afforded with such off-brand food, I might have considered myself blessed to have, if it weren't for the “no cans” rule at the shelter: Neither did they provide a kitchen to cook in, and so residents were expected to eat microwave TV-dinners–but of course, there were no vegan and vegetarian options, and even if there had been, I wasn't absolutely sure that I would trust by God to eat it, as the two microwaves buzzed for hours at a time to warm the food fed three-times daily to the zombie like residents, who I sometimes observed in passing on my way in or out of the shelter. “This is my only food.”, I balked. “That's not my problem!” he said. “My food stamps aren't coming regularly: I got this at the food bank and it's the only food I have.”, I explained. “SO?!” He said “You're not even supposed to have that on the premises.” “I know.” , I said. “But it's the only food I have.” The system had been so inconsistent with my food benefits that I never could expect when I would be able to eat again, or for how long–it seemed it was all a sham to force me into the mental health system. I was malnourished, lethargic, and still injured from the fight I had been in just weeks earlier. “That's not my problem.” He scoffed. “So I can't use the can opener?” I asked. He just ignored me, shrugging. On any other day, i might have just brushed it off–but on this night in particular, hunger forged a deep tear into my soul, the weight of all I had been through plummeting down into one nearly-fatal blow – the man was arrogant as always but on this particular night seemed increasingly evil. “Yo, this is fucked up! I can't survive on only bananas and you don't have any Vegan options: my food stamps don't come regularly and I can't eat! This is FUCKED UP.” Even with all I had been through, I had realized I barely blew up–though far from an actual saint, I had been gifted with at least the patience of one, really only ever doomed to explode after a buildup–and it had been months of being what seemed like strategically terrorized: my fight delayed, keeping me trapped in the United States, prone to corporate slavery and no privacy at all, my bills outweighing any income I had the ability to make, trapped inside of my too-fat, too-black body for too long, and of course, being tormented by Skrillex, trapped in the homeless system, hazed by White Supremacists, blacklisted by Insomniac, and sent into an otherwise chaotic and segregated world from which I did not come from–i had been bullied, physically attacked, made to fight, consistently followed and of course, ever-presently chronically reminded of an abusive marriage which had left me homeless, mourning and grieving two dead children, and estranged from the third–who had in the care of his father become morbidly obese, subject to neglect, and unaware of my presense–let alone the love I had for him left–the only love I really had for anything anymore–and not that it mattered; I could not afford to care for him, or myself–and had become uncomfortably numb, sober, cellibate, and brainwashed enough to have once believed that I could succeed in entertainment–though, as it turned out– I had just been another useless subject of mass manipulation, predictive programming, human experimentation, and psychological terrorism– my life, among many didn't matter. I had been deemed useless, and doomed to be discarded at the age of 30. My suspicions had been confirmed; As I had collapsed into a heap of flesh, returning to the room in hunger and fury and throwing the three cans of vegetables to the ground, tears gushed from my eyes as I considerably died in more ways than one, over and over– overcome by the years of torture I had endured from the system itself, for whatever reason, and of course, a breakdown I would have otherwise avoided entirely, had my annoying roommate not earlier reminded me “Is it the 23rd?” and it was indeed the 23rd of May, the anniversary of my son's passing – he would have been 7 or 8, but I had lost count, attempting to erase the memory of my broken, fucked up world. To think, in another world I may have had 7 or 8 year old twins and a husband–which was in fact, all that I even wanted to begin with in the first place; I had given up my dreams of being a household name–a broadway actress, a television star, a world-class musician–I had given up my own dreams long ago. I left my body entirely, curling into a huddled ball in the workchair, tucking my head between my legs and under the desk, my arms in a tight grip underneath my knees–my mind racing and soul ripping from its capsule, hovering above my body and enamored that I had become thin enough to fall into such a position, as if bracing for impact in a plane crash; and suddenly, there I was–all at once, in-and-out of body “Brace for Impact!” The plane crash, of course – and all the other scenes I had yet to write playing over and over in my head– the stories of my innermost imagination shattering and spread across the starlit sky which I became in a fuchsia purple wisp, space and time forming around me–I was neither dead nor alive, and though I could still feel my abdomen firmly pressed against my thighs, I was so far outside of and above it looking down at it, completely gone–and though I could feel myself still breathing shallow, hollow breaths, I could no longer feel the weight of the anger, the sting of the hunger, or the grip of evil around my neck. It was indeed a Holy War–constantly haunted by memories of a past I only wished to forget, followed and prodded by soldiers of an unknown force–military? CIA? I didn't know , but it was certain that I was being watched and studied, my psychic inclinations and seemingly supernatural gifts becoming exploited and exposed throughout my entire life; My roomate had initiated too many conversations that just so eerily suggested that indeed, she too, had been marked with a task– collecting information about my psyche, living habits, preferences, diet, and, of course–history–and though she seemed kind enough and did have brown eyes, i would probably never trust another human being again. She rubbed my back as I sat, still rolled into a fetal position and weeping, for the time having been unable to move; as she stroked my back and rubbed my hair, half dredlocked and th usually shaven side overgrown into a curly patch on my head, I began to feel the soothing touch of another human being for the first time in years–as I had realized only days before on the subway, squeezed so tightly between two other people during rush hour transit that I could feel them both breathing–i noticed the remarkable truth that I had not been loved or touched in so long that this, being squeezed between two breathing humans, was somewhat soothing–and as I breathed myself heavily in and out, I began to return to my miserable body, in the less-than-miserable room we shared, but not so happily that I would ever become comfortable or call it home. I needed space, but couldn't seem to speak– I returned slowly to consciousness as the tension in my back arose to it's normal pressure, as I lifted my head, my neck clicking from the injury from the fightt. “Do you want to talk about it?” I didn't, but i could barely stand to move my head, and I was, indeed “Barely Breathing”, which I noticed, and seemed to have to cry a little bit more, and a little bit harder after a brief moment thinking about Dillon Francis, and though as I had left my body for quite some time and sat scattered across in all the remains of what might have been pieces of The Festival Project I had written for him, or even in the very least which had been so inspired by–a dark crevice had opened up into a black void, which seemed to occupy the space where my soul had once been, and any of the feelings I had kept there with him–For indeed, I had returned to my body, however, part of me was long gone– and I knew I had indeed faced another spiritual death, cast somehow just in a moment into yet another, even deeper realm of the afterlife, with nothing left to do to submit to it. “I'm probably going to kill myself by summer!” , Alex said–and for some reason her words rattled around in my brain superimposed as some sort of code which probably meant: You're going to kill yourself by summer. It felt true, and though I hadn't been pressed so hard against the doors of suicide, my mind had often drifted to a place of remorse for all that had happened- perhaps I was indeed trapped in a shamanic stronghold–and though I myself had been for some time equipped with healing powers, I had been reluctant to use black or Satanic magic to fight whatever had been the cause of my consistent homelessness, isolation, financial ruin, intense hunger– and foraged bitterness towards whatever external forces that seemed to rule over every entirety of my existence; I had been pulled apart, tortured, tormented, and disfigured in such a way that I wished not to live in the greedy, materialistic money-driven world anyhow. One of the napkins I had balled up and tossed into the Whole Foods bag that my roomate had held out for me the night before had been placed in my backpack, atop the bag where I kept the sage I had replaced and had been hiding and two pieces of palo santo–I didn't care so much as what the punishment would be and had chosen religiously to keep protecting myself, and though my freedom had been threatened, “They'll take you a worse shelter!”, my roomate had yelled, after interrogating me about “smoking” in the room— and, not that I would have allowed her to know, I conceded that in the event I was moved to an even worse shelter, I would simply jump in front of a train or from somewhere high up enough that I knew death was imminent, as so many had before and did each day: there wasn't anything worth living for anyway, and I had given up the fight entirely. The Festial Project was a mockery–Skrillex had been used to terrorize me, and Dillon Francis was no different–there was nothing and no one in the world that I could trust, who would ever understand me. But, I kept waking up in my horrible, miserable body–unloved and unwell, and so at the very least, kept burning my sage, saying my prayers, and wishing something would change–though according to the book I had been reading, slaves such as myself were raised to be disposed of at the age of 30. “In that case…” I had used the modest amount of money I had earned to restart my podcast subscription, knowing that it would be on a limited basis: I wasn't making any money, and was still being followed around by demons–which the book stated, were used to control and manipulate my existence at every turn, and it seemed that the Hell that I had been in for years was entirely inescapable, anyway. I had felt that she would use my downtime as I showered and continued to return to my body to check my bags–leaving behind the balled up napkin as a passive aggressive tactic to let me know that she was aware that I had obstinately lied– But if there was one thing I had learned, is that in the Hell I had been born into and pulled through for 30 years, is that honesty will only hurt you–something someone pretty, rich, and privileged like Bibi Bourelly, Sonny Moore, or even Dillon Francis would never understand–or perhaps, for at least the latter two, being men of great influence and power–knew all-too well. Well enough, at least. ‘This means that they will be locked up in a crazy house for the rest of their life. Rather than be put in straight-jackets with other crazy people it would be better for the person to commit suicide.' ‘twice the normal dose of two kinds of lithium carbonate to put her into a lethargic stupor' ‘The programmers are very careful to have heart monitors on the victim, and to have paddles ready to revive the body. ‘ ‘Dissociation is used as a defense to protect a person from overwhelming pain and trauma. It is a natural ability of the brain. Hypnosis or hypnotic trance is a form of dissociation. There are a number of types of dissociation: amnesia, somnambulistic states, localized paralyses, anaesthesias, and hallucinations. Hypnosis can reproduce all of these dissociative states. The mind naturally hypnotizes itself under various conditions. Hypnosis is a valuable tool to move the mind to different neurophysiological states and to get the mind to different levels of the subconscious mind. Hypnosis can also play a role in working around amnesia, since both are types of dissociation. Hyperventilation helps a person induct into a hypnotic trance. Torture, depersonalization, fear and acute anxiety stimulate the body to hyperventilate. Common objects in a person's life that can be hypnotically given a programming meaning include music, tones, colors, the sight of a book or Bible, the pyramid on the back of a dollar bill, pictures of God, silk scarfs, jewelry, lights, 93 sounds, TV programs, and countless other things. The limit to this is simply the programmer's creativity. A common hypnotic device for washing away pain is running water. MK Ultra Subproject 128 Delta - This is a Greek letter shaped like a triangle which symbolizes change in calculus. It has become a favorite word to use in naming things for the occult elite. Delta teams are 4 person assassination teams which usually are secret teams. Delta Forces is an elite unit that operates under the Joint chiefs of staff that is made up of highly trained total mind-controlled slaves. Delta models are slaves whose sole purpose is assassination. Delta alters are alters within an Illuminati alter system which are programmed to be assassins. These alters are often some of the deepest in a system and in a Genie bottle or with Umbrella programming.

“She's going through my bag.” I thought to myself– the warm running shower over the back of my neck returning me fully to my body; It had taken something like an hour to return to myself– still within and yet so far out of my body, that the twisting and turning cosmic purple light of my natural aura became all of me, as, whisked away through space and time, pushed and pulled through all of the trauma I had endured certainly over the last few years alone, but the entirety of my lifetime–it had all been part of something bigger and greater than I could have known–supposedly all in my control, and yet seemingly not-so at all. I could feel her in the other room, checking my bag–she would find the sage that I had meant to burn in the bathroom during my shower, and yet had been in such a state that I only grabbed my clothes, unwilling to go to the gym: my honesty had again betrayed my own safety–earlier, my roommate asking where I had gone in the late night/early morning before, and my response, which was honest, only confirmed why I had come to the conclusion not once but many times that honesty will only ever hurt you —I had learned well and under the excruciating pain of reality that any vampire, vulture, or entity alone would take honesty as weakness, only to be used against you; I had reached the tipping point in being taken advantage of—I was hungry, owed money, and out of sorts—my new roommate was off in a number of ways, but I was no longer willing to be subjected to whatever experiment at wlll—I had for years been a test rat, my suicidal tendencies, notions, and ideations often vilified, but justifiable nonetheless. ‘I tell the truth!” , the words of Bibi Bourelly, of course one of many of Sonny's suspected lovers, rang in my ears sometimes, as I teetered on the grounds of morality in the under relms of poverty, where people as often as ever lied, stole, or otherwise continually broke more codes and societal expectations in order to get by, or even get ahead – “It's deep, but it ain't that deep.”--more words apparently by the “wise” Bibi, one of the handful of the always-priviliaged, raised-rich spoiled brats Sonny kept in his arsenal, himself a mere tool of the psychological torture which I was certain would eventually end my life, but certainly had halted my affinity for any career or ambition in music whatsoever anyway–not that I cared much for anything. I understood now that I was being controlled and manipulated at nearly every corner–sorted into the overall trash pile of other miserable and useless slaves and subhuman beings marked unfit, and of course–after whatever had happened with my former roommate, now had an increasingly irritating annoyance of the pestering new roommate, who was otherwise nice and sweet, but of course to the point of suspicion. I had left my body long enough to think about anything and everything that night—and after the amount of wrong that I had endured, the meltdown bad been a longtime coming. I had been discarded as trash, thrown to the wolves, and completely abandoned by anyone and everyone but God itself, all other forms of love a sheer illusion—another form of attachment I had only learned to sever under the cruel injustice and inequality of the world. My body was merely a shell—all else formed around it a paradox. My roommate often at random brought up events or subjects from my own past that I wished not to talk about, at first altering me to the notion that she may be some kind of therapist or psychologist–maybe even military. She claimed to be Japanese and also have lived in Germany for 20 years–sad herself to have been in the Homeless system for over four years, and “trapped” in the united states unable to work due to a lack of social security number; There were many things about her story I found off or strange and very odd–and so I knew never to trust her or anyone else for that matter– but it was the fact that she had brought up Shamanism first and foremost without me having so much as a word about anything, of course, coupled with the oddity that she would grind her teeth throughout the night as did my estranged ex husband and former roommate: a disease which I learned only affected 10-30% of the population in total: I suspected of course for the entire program to be some covert operation: The State was in fact, the same regime responsible for, just after the death of my son, fueled by lack of sleep from grief – tied me to a bed (though I had bee cooperative and non-violent) overdosed me involuntarily with a strange medication and allowed me to urinate myself, then lay for hours soaked in urine–and only after days of psychological abuse and torture, forcing me to talk to a Mormon Bishop, and sedating me with heavy doses of lithium— which deemed me unable to talk, move, or speak for several days–and caused me excruciating migraines—all for the sake of psychological experimentation. Of course, this was still The United States of America, a Globalist Republic– and of course, I was still a black woman–the most demonized, traumatized, criminalized existence on the face of the earth. My new roommate had talked openly for days about being attacked by some kind of spirit or demon, which forced her to gain weight; a demonic type force that supposedly sat in her stomach for and implanted certain thoughts in the form of voice in her head– at the same time, she had been increasingly adamant that I never burn sage or palo santo–she had already proven herself to be a snitch, as in the early morning hours of my first morning as her roomate, the Operations team flooded in, opened my drawer, and of course confiscated my $8 sage stick, luckily overlooking the palo santo–she of course pretended not to have narced, but over the coming days would allow it to slip that she had indeed told the Operations team of the sage, which caused them to follow up and confiscate it. I found Sage to be crucial to my protection and part of my religious sanctity: That anyhow, I had been made to eventually kill myself or fall prey to the system which would in any other way ensure that I was made to become ill by way of poor nutrition– The system failed to provide vegan or even vegetarian meals, and of course the same system made sure that my food benefits were handed out irregularly–I often had no money to eat at all, and just as well drifted into the memory of one of my last conversations with the host of the air bnb I had stayed at, who also seemed to have been on some kind of agenda–he had also constantly brought up things that I didn't want to talk about, consistently forcing conversations about race relations, the race war, how oppressed black people are, The White Supremacy, and other nightmarish perception-altering and overall negative assertions, leaving me with this: “I had to steal food!”, he said, claiming having once been homeless himself–a story I neither wanted to hear or honestly belied. It had been long since I could trust anyone besides myself, but especially a man–not that color had much to do with it, besides of course my constantly being reminded that I was stuck black. ‘All the more reason not to care.' I thought, my apathy becoming an overriding factor. I was starving–and though not quite in the actual stages of starvation, which I had staved off by eating genetically modified fruit over the last couple of days– which didn't appear to have any nutritional value at all and certainly didn't give my body any energy I could use, especially not to take the grueling one-hour ride to the dirty, overrun gym–which at least had a sauna and was 24 hours–but useless, as the sauna was closed during the overnight hours when I wanted to go, escaping my new roomates controlling habits, forceful talks equipped with code words and subliminal messages, the pesterance of being unable to cleanse the room with sage, and, of course — her almost nightmarish sensitivity to everything, which included light, the music in my headphones being too loud (so much so that I could hear the city noise over anything I could in my headphones, and of course made it impossible to work in ableton, as everything I did as she tried to sleep was “too loud”--even writing was forbidden, as I one had had been typing away at the 7th season's script and she asked that I not type at al– nor could I use my mixer, as the button pressing was “too loud”, and while most of my musical inspiration came at night, I could see that for whatever purpose, this person was being used to manipulate and control me once more- No burning sage, no making mixtapes, no typing… “You have the whole day when I am gone, you can do whatever you want.”, she said As if I myself didn't have things to do during the day–just getting to and from the gym taking stretches of precious time alone–of course met with another method of psychological torture– the constant drilling, hammering, and knocking about in the room directly above mine–which sometimes of course felt like being opened from the inside out, my synestesia poking holes in my sanity-and while that should have been enough of an excuse to spend all of my days at the gym–the gym itself had become a way for the system to control and manipulate my mind, for even as my body grew stronger, my mind grew weak and muddled being followed around by little white girls swinging their hair in my face, people coughing all around, and trash everywhere I had fallen into a heap of despair, as the combination of the date alone, the research I had been doing, the work I wasn't getting done, the money I wasn't making, and the lack of nutrition set in–the night shift operations refusing to allow me to use the can opener, after I had left it atop the microwave and not “put it in his hands”-- a classic misogynistic, controlling black man, he always gave the residents a terrible attitude, but I had no reason myself to dislike him before this moment. “I don't have to let you use the can opener.” He said. My only food for days had come from the food bank, besies the free GMO-fruit the shelter sometimes handed out, which had been making me sick and lethargic; of course, because it had come from a food bank, they required a can-opener–as the luxury of a pop-top had rarely been afforded with such off-brand food, I might have considered myself blessed to have, if it weren't for the “no cans” rule at the shelter: Neither did they provide a kitchen to cook in, and so residents were expected to eat microwave TV-dinners–but of course, there were no vegan and vegetarian options, and even if there had been, I wasn't absolutely sure that I would trust by God to eat it, as the two microwaves buzzed for hours at a time to warm the food fed three-times daily to the zombie like residents, who I sometimes observed in passing on my way in or out of the shelter. “This is my only food.”, I balked. “That's not my problem!” he said. “My food stamps aren't coming regularly: I got this at the food bank and it's the only food I have.”, I explained. “SO?!” He said “You're not even supposed to have that on the premises.” “I know.” , I said. “But it's the only food I have.” The system had been so inconsistent with my food benefits that I never could expect when I would be able to eat again, or for how long–it seemed it was all a sham to force me into the mental health system. I was malnourished, lethargic, and still injured from the fight I had been in just weeks earlier. “That's not my problem.” He scoffed. “So I can't use the can opener?” I asked. He just ignored me, shrugging. On any other day, i might have just brushed it off–but on this night in particular, hunger forged a deep tear into my soul, the weight of all I had been through plummeting down into one nearly-fatal blow – the man was arrogant as always but on this particular night seemed increasingly evil. “Yo, this is fucked up! I can't survive on only bananas and you don't have any Vegan options: my food stamps don't come regularly and I can't eat! This is FUCKED UP.” Even with all I had been through, I had realized I barely blew up–though far from an actual saint, I had been gifted with at least the patience of one, really only ever doomed to explode after a buildup–and it had been months of being what seemed like strategically terrorized: my fight delayed, keeping me trapped in the United States, prone to corporate slavery and no privacy at all, my bills outweighing any income I had the ability to make, trapped inside of my too-fat, too-black body for too long, and of course, being tormented by Skrillex, trapped in the homeless system, hazed by White Supremacists, blacklisted by Insomniac, and sent into an otherwise chaotic and segregated world from which I did not come from–i had been bullied, physically attacked, made to fight, consistently followed and of course, ever-presently chronically reminded of an abusive marriage which had left me homeless, mourning and grieving two dead children, and estranged from the third–who had in the care of his father become morbidly obese, subject to neglect, and unaware of my presense–let alone the love I had for him left–the only love I really had for anything anymore–and not that it mattered; I could not afford to care for him, or myself–and had become uncomfortably numb, sober, cellibate, and brainwashed enough to have once believed that I could succeed in entertainment–though, as it turned out– I had just been another useless subject of mass manipulation, predictive programming, human experimentation, and psychological terrorism– my life, among many didn't matter. I had been deemed useless, and doomed to be discarded at the age of 30. My suspicions had been confirmed; As I had collapsed into a heap of flesh, returning to the room in hunger and fury and throwing the three cans of vegetables to the ground, tears gushed from my eyes as I considerably died in more ways than one, over and over– overcome by the years of torture I had endured from the system itself, for whatever reason, and of course, a breakdown I would have otherwise avoided entirely, had my annoying roommate not earlier reminded me “Is it the 23rd?” and it was indeed the 23rd of May, the anniversary of my son's passing – he would have been 7 or 8, but I had lost count, attempting to erase the memory of my broken, fucked up world. To think, in another world I may have had 7 or 8 year old twins and a husband–which was in fact, all that I even wanted to begin with in the first place; I had given up my dreams of being a household name–a broadway actress, a television star, a world-class musician–I had given up my own dreams long ago. I left my body entirely, curling into a huddled ball in the workchair, tucking my head between my legs and under the desk, my arms in a tight grip underneath my knees–my mind racing and soul ripping from its capsule, hovering above my body and enamored that I had become thin enough to fall into such a position, as if bracing for impact in a plane crash; and suddenly, there I was–all at once, in-and-out of body “Brace for Impact!” The plane crash, of course – and all the other scenes I had yet to write playing over and over in my head– the stories of my innermost imagination shattering and spread across the starlit sky which I became in a fuchsia purple wisp, space and time forming around me–I was neither dead nor alive, and though I could still feel my abdomen firmly pressed against my thighs, I was so far outside of and above it looking down at it, completely gone–and though I could feel myself still breathing shallow, hollow breaths, I could no longer feel the weight of the anger, the sting of the hunger, or the grip of evil around my neck. It was indeed a Holy War–constantly haunted by memories of a past I only wished to forget, followed and prodded by soldiers of an unknown force–military? CIA? I didn't know , but it was certain that I was being watched and studied, my psychic inclinations and seemingly supernatural gifts becoming exploited and exposed throughout my entire life; My roomate had initiated too many conversations that just so eerily suggested that indeed, she too, had been marked with a task– collecting information about my psyche, living habits, preferences, diet, and, of course–history–and though she seemed kind enough and did have brown eyes, i would probably never trust another human being again. She rubbed my back as I sat, still rolled into a fetal position and weeping, for the time having been unable to move; as she stroked my back and rubbed my hair, half dredlocked and th usually shaven side overgrown into a curly patch on my head, I began to feel the soothing touch of another human being for the first time in years–as I had realized only days before on the subway, squeezed so tightly between two other people during rush hour transit that I could feel them both breathing–i noticed the remarkable truth that I had not been loved or touched in so long that this, being squeezed between two breathing humans, was somewhat soothing–and as I breathed myself heavily in and out, I began to return to my miserable body, in the less-than-miserable room we shared, but not so happily that I would ever become comfortable or call it home. I needed space, but couldn't seem to speak– I returned slowly to consciousness as the tension in my back arose to it's normal pressure, as I lifted my head, my neck clicking from the injury from the fightt. “Do you want to talk about it?” I didn't, but i could barely stand to move my head, and I was, indeed “Barely Breathing”, which I noticed, and seemed to have to cry a little bit more, and a little bit harder after a brief moment thinking about Dillon Francis, and though as I had left my body for quite some time and sat scattered across in all the remains of what might have been pieces of The Festival Project I had written for him, or even in the very least which had been so inspired by–a dark crevice had opened up into a black void, which seemed to occupy the space where my soul had once been, and any of the feelings I had kept there with him–For indeed, I had returned to my body, however, part of me was long gone– and I knew I had indeed faced another spiritual death, cast somehow just in a moment into yet another, even deeper realm of the afterlife, with nothing left to do to submit to it. “I'm probably going to kill myself by summer!” , Alex said–and for some reason her words rattled around in my brain superimposed as some sort of code which probably meant: You're going to kill yourself by summer. It felt true, and though I hadn't been pressed so hard against the doors of suicide, my mind had often drifted to a place of remorse for all that had happened- perhaps I was indeed trapped in a shamanic stronghold–and though I myself had been for some time equipped with healing powers, I had been reluctant to use black or Satanic magic to fight whatever had been the cause of my consistent homelessness, isolation, financial ruin, intense hunger– and foraged bitterness towards whatever external forces that seemed to rule over every entirety of my existence; I had been pulled apart, tortured, tormented, and disfigured in such a way that I wished not to live in the greedy, materialistic money-driven world anyhow. One of the napkins I had balled up and tossed into the Whole Foods bag that my roomate had held out for me the night before had been placed in my backpack, atop the bag where I kept the sage I had replaced and had been hiding and two pieces of palo santo–I didn't care so much as what the punishment would be and had chosen religiously to keep protecting myself, and though my freedom had been threatened, “They'll take you a worse shelter!”, my roomate had yelled, after interrogating me about “smoking” in the room— and, not that I would have allowed her to know, I conceded that in the event I was moved to an even worse shelter, I would simply jump in front of a train or from somewhere high up enough that I knew death was imminent, as so many had before and did each day: there wasn't anything worth living for anyway, and I had given up the fight entirely. The Festial Project was a mockery–Skrillex had been used to terrorize me, and Dillon Francis was no different–there was nothing and no one in the world that I could trust, who would ever understand me. But, I kept waking up in my horrible, miserable body–unloved and unwell, and so at the very least, kept burning my sage, saying my prayers, and wishing something would change–though according to the book I had been reading, slaves such as myself were raised to be disposed of at the age of 30. “In that case…” I had used the modest amount of money I had earned to restart my podcast subscription, knowing that it would be on a limited basis: I wasn't making any money, and was still being followed around by demons–which the book stated, were used to control and manipulate my existence at every turn, and it seemed that the Hell that I had been in for years was entirely inescapable, anyway. I had felt that she would use my downtime as I showered and continued to return to my body to check my bags–leaving behind the balled up napkin as a passive aggressive tactic to let me know that she was aware that I had obstinately lied– But if there was one thing I had learned, is that in the Hell I had been born into and pulled through for 30 years, is that honesty will only hurt you–something someone pretty, rich, and privileged like Bibi Bourelly, Sonny Moore, or even Dillon Francis would never understand–or perhaps, for at least the latter two, being men of great influence and power–knew all-too well. Well enough, at least. ‘This means that they will be locked up in a crazy house for the rest of their life. Rather than be put in straight-jackets with other crazy people it would be better for the person to commit suicide.' ‘twice the normal dose of two kinds of lithium carbonate to put her into a lethargic stupor' ‘The programmers are very careful to have heart monitors on the victim, and to have paddles ready to revive the body. ‘ ‘Dissociation is used as a defense to protect a person from overwhelming pain and trauma. It is a natural ability of the brain. Hypnosis or hypnotic trance is a form of dissociation. There are a number of types of dissociation: amnesia, somnambulistic states, localized paralyses, anaesthesias, and hallucinations. Hypnosis can reproduce all of these dissociative states. The mind naturally hypnotizes itself under various conditions. Hypnosis is a valuable tool to move the mind to different neurophysiological states and to get the mind to different levels of the subconscious mind. Hypnosis can also play a role in working around amnesia, since both are types of dissociation. Hyperventilation helps a person induct into a hypnotic trance. Torture, depersonalization, fear and acute anxiety stimulate the body to hyperventilate. Common objects in a person's life that can be hypnotically given a programming meaning include music, tones, colors, the sight of a book or Bible, the pyramid on the back of a dollar bill, pictures of God, silk scarfs, jewelry, lights, 93 sounds, TV programs, and countless other things. The limit to this is simply the programmer's creativity. A common hypnotic device for washing away pain is running water. MK Ultra Subproject 128 Delta - This is a Greek letter shaped like a triangle which symbolizes change in calculus. It has become a favorite word to use in naming things for the occult elite. Delta teams are 4 person assassination teams which usually are secret teams. Delta Forces is an elite unit that operates under the Joint chiefs of staff that is made up of highly trained total mind-controlled slaves. Delta models are slaves whose sole purpose is assassination. Delta alters are alters within an Illuminati alter system which are programmed to be assassins. These alters are often some of the deepest in a system and in a Genie bottle or with Umbrella programming.

“She's going through my bag.” I thought to myself– the warm running shower over the back of my neck returning me fully to my body; It had taken something like an hour to return to myself– still within and yet so far out of my body, that the twisting and turning cosmic purple light of my natural aura became all of me, as, whisked away through space and time, pushed and pulled through all of the trauma I had endured certainly over the last few years alone, but the entirety of my lifetime–it had all been part of something bigger and greater than I could have known–supposedly all in my control, and yet seemingly not-so at all. I could feel her in the other room, checking my bag–she would find the sage that I had meant to burn in the bathroom during my shower, and yet had been in such a state that I only grabbed my clothes, unwilling to go to the gym: my honesty had again betrayed my own safety–earlier, my roommate asking where I had gone in the late night/early morning before, and my response, which was honest, only confirmed why I had come to the conclusion not once but many times that honesty will only ever hurt you —I had learned well and under the excruciating pain of reality that any vampire, vulture, or entity alone would take honesty as weakness, only to be used against you; I had reached the tipping point in being taken advantage of—I was hungry, owed money, and out of sorts—my new roommate was off in a number of ways, but I was no longer willing to be subjected to whatever experiment at wlll—I had for years been a test rat, my suicidal tendencies, notions, and ideations often vilified, but justifiable nonetheless. ‘I tell the truth!” , the words of Bibi Bourelly, of course one of many of Sonny's suspected lovers, rang in my ears sometimes, as I teetered on the grounds of morality in the under relms of poverty, where people as often as ever lied, stole, or otherwise continually broke more codes and societal expectations in order to get by, or even get ahead – “It's deep, but it ain't that deep.”--more words apparently by the “wise” Bibi, one of the handful of the always-priviliaged, raised-rich spoiled brats Sonny kept in his arsenal, himself a mere tool of the psychological torture which I was certain would eventually end my life, but certainly had halted my affinity for any career or ambition in music whatsoever anyway–not that I cared much for anything. I understood now that I was being controlled and manipulated at nearly every corner–sorted into the overall trash pile of other miserable and useless slaves and subhuman beings marked unfit, and of course–after whatever had happened with my former roommate, now had an increasingly irritating annoyance of the pestering new roommate, who was otherwise nice and sweet, but of course to the point of suspicion. I had left my body long enough to think about anything and everything that night—and after the amount of wrong that I had endured, the meltdown bad been a longtime coming. I had been discarded as trash, thrown to the wolves, and completely abandoned by anyone and everyone but God itself, all other forms of love a sheer illusion—another form of attachment I had only learned to sever under the cruel injustice and inequality of the world. My body was merely a shell—all else formed around it a paradox. My roommate often at random brought up events or subjects from my own past that I wished not to talk about, at first altering me to the notion that she may be some kind of therapist or psychologist–maybe even military. She claimed to be Japanese and also have lived in Germany for 20 years–sad herself to have been in the Homeless system for over four years, and “trapped” in the united states unable to work due to a lack of social security number; There were many things about her story I found off or strange and very odd–and so I knew never to trust her or anyone else for that matter– but it was the fact that she had brought up Shamanism first and foremost without me having so much as a word about anything, of course, coupled with the oddity that she would grind her teeth throughout the night as did my estranged ex husband and former roommate: a disease which I learned only affected 10-30% of the population in total: I suspected of course for the entire program to be some covert operation: The State was in fact, the same regime responsible for, just after the death of my son, fueled by lack of sleep from grief – tied me to a bed (though I had bee cooperative and non-violent) overdosed me involuntarily with a strange medication and allowed me to urinate myself, then lay for hours soaked in urine–and only after days of psychological abuse and torture, forcing me to talk to a Mormon Bishop, and sedating me with heavy doses of lithium— which deemed me unable to talk, move, or speak for several days–and caused me excruciating migraines—all for the sake of psychological experimentation. Of course, this was still The United States of America, a Globalist Republic– and of course, I was still a black woman–the most demonized, traumatized, criminalized existence on the face of the earth. My new roommate had talked openly for days about being attacked by some kind of spirit or demon, which forced her to gain weight; a demonic type force that supposedly sat in her stomach for and implanted certain thoughts in the form of voice in her head– at the same time, she had been increasingly adamant that I never burn sage or palo santo–she had already proven herself to be a snitch, as in the early morning hours of my first morning as her roomate, the Operations team flooded in, opened my drawer, and of course confiscated my $8 sage stick, luckily overlooking the palo santo–she of course pretended not to have narced, but over the coming days would allow it to slip that she had indeed told the Operations team of the sage, which caused them to follow up and confiscate it. I found Sage to be crucial to my protection and part of my religious sanctity: That anyhow, I had been made to eventually kill myself or fall prey to the system which would in any other way ensure that I was made to become ill by way of poor nutrition– The system failed to provide vegan or even vegetarian meals, and of course the same system made sure that my food benefits were handed out irregularly–I often had no money to eat at all, and just as well drifted into the memory of one of my last conversations with the host of the air bnb I had stayed at, who also seemed to have been on some kind of agenda–he had also constantly brought up things that I didn't want to talk about, consistently forcing conversations about race relations, the race war, how oppressed black people are, The White Supremacy, and other nightmarish perception-altering and overall negative assertions, leaving me with this: “I had to steal food!”, he said, claiming having once been homeless himself–a story I neither wanted to hear or honestly belied. It had been long since I could trust anyone besides myself, but especially a man–not that color had much to do with it, besides of course my constantly being reminded that I was stuck black. ‘All the more reason not to care.' I thought, my apathy becoming an overriding factor. I was starving–and though not quite in the actual stages of starvation, which I had staved off by eating genetically modified fruit over the last couple of days– which didn't appear to have any nutritional value at all and certainly didn't give my body any energy I could use, especially not to take the grueling one-hour ride to the dirty, overrun gym–which at least had a sauna and was 24 hours–but useless, as the sauna was closed during the overnight hours when I wanted to go, escaping my new roomates controlling habits, forceful talks equipped with code words and subliminal messages, the pesterance of being unable to cleanse the room with sage, and, of course — her almost nightmarish sensitivity to everything, which included light, the music in my headphones being too loud (so much so that I could hear the city noise over anything I could in my headphones, and of course made it impossible to work in ableton, as everything I did as she tried to sleep was “too loud”--even writing was forbidden, as I one had had been typing away at the 7th season's script and she asked that I not type at al– nor could I use my mixer, as the button pressing was “too loud”, and while most of my musical inspiration came at night, I could see that for whatever purpose, this person was being used to manipulate and control me once more- No burning sage, no making mixtapes, no typing… “You have the whole day when I am gone, you can do whatever you want.”, she said As if I myself didn't have things to do during the day–just getting to and from the gym taking stretches of precious time alone–of course met with another method of psychological torture– the constant drilling, hammering, and knocking about in the room directly above mine–which sometimes of course felt like being opened from the inside out, my synestesia poking holes in my sanity-and while that should have been enough of an excuse to spend all of my days at the gym–the gym itself had become a way for the system to control and manipulate my mind, for even as my body grew stronger, my mind grew weak and muddled being followed around by little white girls swinging their hair in my face, people coughing all around, and trash everywhere I had fallen into a heap of despair, as the combination of the date alone, the research I had been doing, the work I wasn't getting done, the money I wasn't making, and the lack of nutrition set in–the night shift operations refusing to allow me to use the can opener, after I had left it atop the microwave and not “put it in his hands”-- a classic misogynistic, controlling black man, he always gave the residents a terrible attitude, but I had no reason myself to dislike him before this moment. “I don't have to let you use the can opener.” He said. My only food for days had come from the food bank, besies the free GMO-fruit the shelter sometimes handed out, which had been making me sick and lethargic; of course, because it had come from a food bank, they required a can-opener–as the luxury of a pop-top had rarely been afforded with such off-brand food, I might have considered myself blessed to have, if it weren't for the “no cans” rule at the shelter: Neither did they provide a kitchen to cook in, and so residents were expected to eat microwave TV-dinners–but of course, there were no vegan and vegetarian options, and even if there had been, I wasn't absolutely sure that I would trust by God to eat it, as the two microwaves buzzed for hours at a time to warm the food fed three-times daily to the zombie like residents, who I sometimes observed in passing on my way in or out of the shelter. “This is my only food.”, I balked. “That's not my problem!” he said. “My food stamps aren't coming regularly: I got this at the food bank and it's the only food I have.”, I explained. “SO?!” He said “You're not even supposed to have that on the premises.” “I know.” , I said. “But it's the only food I have.” The system had been so inconsistent with my food benefits that I never could expect when I would be able to eat again, or for how long–it seemed it was all a sham to force me into the mental health system. I was malnourished, lethargic, and still injured from the fight I had been in just weeks earlier. “That's not my problem.” He scoffed. “So I can't use the can opener?” I asked. He just ignored me, shrugging. On any other day, i might have just brushed it off–but on this night in particular, hunger forged a deep tear into my soul, the weight of all I had been through plummeting down into one nearly-fatal blow – the man was arrogant as always but on this particular night seemed increasingly evil. “Yo, this is fucked up! I can't survive on only bananas and you don't have any Vegan options: my food stamps don't come regularly and I can't eat! This is FUCKED UP.” Even with all I had been through, I had realized I barely blew up–though far from an actual saint, I had been gifted with at least the patience of one, really only ever doomed to explode after a buildup–and it had been months of being what seemed like strategically terrorized: my fight delayed, keeping me trapped in the United States, prone to corporate slavery and no privacy at all, my bills outweighing any income I had the ability to make, trapped inside of my too-fat, too-black body for too long, and of course, being tormented by Skrillex, trapped in the homeless system, hazed by White Supremacists, blacklisted by Insomniac, and sent into an otherwise chaotic and segregated world from which I did not come from–i had been bullied, physically attacked, made to fight, consistently followed and of course, ever-presently chronically reminded of an abusive marriage which had left me homeless, mourning and grieving two dead children, and estranged from the third–who had in the care of his father become morbidly obese, subject to neglect, and unaware of my presense–let alone the love I had for him left–the only love I really had for anything anymore–and not that it mattered; I could not afford to care for him, or myself–and had become uncomfortably numb, sober, cellibate, and brainwashed enough to have once believed that I could succeed in entertainment–though, as it turned out– I had just been another useless subject of mass manipulation, predictive programming, human experimentation, and psychological terrorism– my life, among many didn't matter. I had been deemed useless, and doomed to be discarded at the age of 30. My suspicions had been confirmed; As I had collapsed into a heap of flesh, returning to the room in hunger and fury and throwing the three cans of vegetables to the ground, tears gushed from my eyes as I considerably died in more ways than one, over and over– overcome by the years of torture I had endured from the system itself, for whatever reason, and of course, a breakdown I would have otherwise avoided entirely, had my annoying roommate not earlier reminded me “Is it the 23rd?” and it was indeed the 23rd of May, the anniversary of my son's passing – he would have been 7 or 8, but I had lost count, attempting to erase the memory of my broken, fucked up world. To think, in another world I may have had 7 or 8 year old twins and a husband–which was in fact, all that I even wanted to begin with in the first place; I had given up my dreams of being a household name–a broadway actress, a television star, a world-class musician–I had given up my own dreams long ago. I left my body entirely, curling into a huddled ball in the workchair, tucking my head between my legs and under the desk, my arms in a tight grip underneath my knees–my mind racing and soul ripping from its capsule, hovering above my body and enamored that I had become thin enough to fall into such a position, as if bracing for impact in a plane crash; and suddenly, there I was–all at once, in-and-out of body “Brace for Impact!” The plane crash, of course – and all the other scenes I had yet to write playing over and over in my head– the stories of my innermost imagination shattering and spread across the starlit sky which I became in a fuchsia purple wisp, space and time forming around me–I was neither dead nor alive, and though I could still feel my abdomen firmly pressed against my thighs, I was so far outside of and above it looking down at it, completely gone–and though I could feel myself still breathing shallow, hollow breaths, I could no longer feel the weight of the anger, the sting of the hunger, or the grip of evil around my neck. It was indeed a Holy War–constantly haunted by memories of a past I only wished to forget, followed and prodded by soldiers of an unknown force–military? CIA? I didn't know , but it was certain that I was being watched and studied, my psychic inclinations and seemingly supernatural gifts becoming exploited and exposed throughout my entire life; My roomate had initiated too many conversations that just so eerily suggested that indeed, she too, had been marked with a task– collecting information about my psyche, living habits, preferences, diet, and, of course–history–and though she seemed kind enough and did have brown eyes, i would probably never trust another human being again. She rubbed my back as I sat, still rolled into a fetal position and weeping, for the time having been unable to move; as she stroked my back and rubbed my hair, half dredlocked and th usually shaven side overgrown into a curly patch on my head, I began to feel the soothing touch of another human being for the first time in years–as I had realized only days before on the subway, squeezed so tightly between two other people during rush hour transit that I could feel them both breathing–i noticed the remarkable truth that I had not been loved or touched in so long that this, being squeezed between two breathing humans, was somewhat soothing–and as I breathed myself heavily in and out, I began to return to my miserable body, in the less-than-miserable room we shared, but not so happily that I would ever become comfortable or call it home. I needed space, but couldn't seem to speak– I returned slowly to consciousness as the tension in my back arose to it's normal pressure, as I lifted my head, my neck clicking from the injury from the fightt. “Do you want to talk about it?” I didn't, but i could barely stand to move my head, and I was, indeed “Barely Breathing”, which I noticed, and seemed to have to cry a little bit more, and a little bit harder after a brief moment thinking about Dillon Francis, and though as I had left my body for quite some time and sat scattered across in all the remains of what might have been pieces of The Festival Project I had written for him, or even in the very least which had been so inspired by–a dark crevice had opened up into a black void, which seemed to occupy the space where my soul had once been, and any of the feelings I had kept there with him–For indeed, I had returned to my body, however, part of me was long gone– and I knew I had indeed faced another spiritual death, cast somehow just in a moment into yet another, even deeper realm of the afterlife, with nothing left to do to submit to it. “I'm probably going to kill myself by summer!” , Alex said–and for some reason her words rattled around in my brain superimposed as some sort of code which probably meant: You're going to kill yourself by summer. It felt true, and though I hadn't been pressed so hard against the doors of suicide, my mind had often drifted to a place of remorse for all that had happened- perhaps I was indeed trapped in a shamanic stronghold–and though I myself had been for some time equipped with healing powers, I had been reluctant to use black or Satanic magic to fight whatever had been the cause of my consistent homelessness, isolation, financial ruin, intense hunger– and foraged bitterness towards whatever external forces that seemed to rule over every entirety of my existence; I had been pulled apart, tortured, tormented, and disfigured in such a way that I wished not to live in the greedy, materialistic money-driven world anyhow. One of the napkins I had balled up and tossed into the Whole Foods bag that my roomate had held out for me the night before had been placed in my backpack, atop the bag where I kept the sage I had replaced and had been hiding and two pieces of palo santo–I didn't care so much as what the punishment would be and had chosen religiously to keep protecting myself, and though my freedom had been threatened, “They'll take you a worse shelter!”, my roomate had yelled, after interrogating me about “smoking” in the room— and, not that I would have allowed her to know, I conceded that in the event I was moved to an even worse shelter, I would simply jump in front of a train or from somewhere high up enough that I knew death was imminent, as so many had before and did each day: there wasn't anything worth living for anyway, and I had given up the fight entirely. The Festial Project was a mockery–Skrillex had been used to terrorize me, and Dillon Francis was no different–there was nothing and no one in the world that I could trust, who would ever understand me. But, I kept waking up in my horrible, miserable body–unloved and unwell, and so at the very least, kept burning my sage, saying my prayers, and wishing something would change–though according to the book I had been reading, slaves such as myself were raised to be disposed of at the age of 30. “In that case…” I had used the modest amount of money I had earned to restart my podcast subscription, knowing that it would be on a limited basis: I wasn't making any money, and was still being followed around by demons–which the book stated, were used to control and manipulate my existence at every turn, and it seemed that the Hell that I had been in for years was entirely inescapable, anyway. I had felt that she would use my downtime as I showered and continued to return to my body to check my bags–leaving behind the balled up napkin as a passive aggressive tactic to let me know that she was aware that I had obstinately lied– But if there was one thing I had learned, is that in the Hell I had been born into and pulled through for 30 years, is that honesty will only hurt you–something someone pretty, rich, and privileged like Bibi Bourelly, Sonny Moore, or even Dillon Francis would never understand–or perhaps, for at least the latter two, being men of great influence and power–knew all-too well. Well enough, at least. ‘This means that they will be locked up in a crazy house for the rest of their life. Rather than be put in straight-jackets with other crazy people it would be better for the person to commit suicide.' ‘twice the normal dose of two kinds of lithium carbonate to put her into a lethargic stupor' ‘The programmers are very careful to have heart monitors on the victim, and to have paddles ready to revive the body. ‘ ‘Dissociation is used as a defense to protect a person from overwhelming pain and trauma. It is a natural ability of the brain. Hypnosis or hypnotic trance is a form of dissociation. There are a number of types of dissociation: amnesia, somnambulistic states, localized paralyses, anaesthesias, and hallucinations. Hypnosis can reproduce all of these dissociative states. The mind naturally hypnotizes itself under various conditions. Hypnosis is a valuable tool to move the mind to different neurophysiological states and to get the mind to different levels of the subconscious mind. Hypnosis can also play a role in working around amnesia, since both are types of dissociation. Hyperventilation helps a person induct into a hypnotic trance. Torture, depersonalization, fear and acute anxiety stimulate the body to hyperventilate. Common objects in a person's life that can be hypnotically given a programming meaning include music, tones, colors, the sight of a book or Bible, the pyramid on the back of a dollar bill, pictures of God, silk scarfs, jewelry, lights, 93 sounds, TV programs, and countless other things. The limit to this is simply the programmer's creativity. A common hypnotic device for washing away pain is running water. MK Ultra Subproject 128 Delta - This is a Greek letter shaped like a triangle which symbolizes change in calculus. It has become a favorite word to use in naming things for the occult elite. Delta teams are 4 person assassination teams which usually are secret teams. Delta Forces is an elite unit that operates under the Joint chiefs of staff that is made up of highly trained total mind-controlled slaves. Delta models are slaves whose sole purpose is assassination. Delta alters are alters within an Illuminati alter system which are programmed to be assassins. These alters are often some of the deepest in a system and in a Genie bottle or with Umbrella programming.

“She's going through my bag.” I thought to myself– the warm running shower over the back of my neck returning me fully to my body; It had taken something like an hour to return to myself– still within and yet so far out of my body, that the twisting and turning cosmic purple light of my natural aura became all of me, as, whisked away through space and time, pushed and pulled through all of the trauma I had endured certainly over the last few years alone, but the entirety of my lifetime–it had all been part of something bigger and greater than I could have known–supposedly all in my control, and yet seemingly not-so at all. I could feel her in the other room, checking my bag–she would find the sage that I had meant to burn in the bathroom during my shower, and yet had been in such a state that I only grabbed my clothes, unwilling to go to the gym: my honesty had again betrayed my own safety–earlier, my roommate asking where I had gone in the late night/early morning before, and my response, which was honest, only confirmed why I had come to the conclusion not once but many times that honesty will only ever hurt you —I had learned well and under the excruciating pain of reality that any vampire, vulture, or entity alone would take honesty as weakness, only to be used against you; I had reached the tipping point in being taken advantage of—I was hungry, owed money, and out of sorts—my new roommate was off in a number of ways, but I was no longer willing to be subjected to whatever experiment at wlll—I had for years been a test rat, my suicidal tendencies, notions, and ideations often vilified, but justifiable nonetheless. ‘I tell the truth!” , the words of Bibi Bourelly, of course one of many of Sonny's suspected lovers, rang in my ears sometimes, as I teetered on the grounds of morality in the under relms of poverty, where people as often as ever lied, stole, or otherwise continually broke more codes and societal expectations in order to get by, or even get ahead – “It's deep, but it ain't that deep.”--more words apparently by the “wise” Bibi, one of the handful of the always-priviliaged, raised-rich spoiled brats Sonny kept in his arsenal, himself a mere tool of the psychological torture which I was certain would eventually end my life, but certainly had halted my affinity for any career or ambition in music whatsoever anyway–not that I cared much for anything. I understood now that I was being controlled and manipulated at nearly every corner–sorted into the overall trash pile of other miserable and useless slaves and subhuman beings marked unfit, and of course–after whatever had happened with my former roommate, now had an increasingly irritating annoyance of the pestering new roommate, who was otherwise nice and sweet, but of course to the point of suspicion. I had left my body long enough to think about anything and everything that night—and after the amount of wrong that I had endured, the meltdown bad been a longtime coming. I had been discarded as trash, thrown to the wolves, and completely abandoned by anyone and everyone but God itself, all other forms of love a sheer illusion—another form of attachment I had only learned to sever under the cruel injustice and inequality of the world. My body was merely a shell—all else formed around it a paradox. My roommate often at random brought up events or subjects from my own past that I wished not to talk about, at first altering me to the notion that she may be some kind of therapist or psychologist–maybe even military. She claimed to be Japanese and also have lived in Germany for 20 years–sad herself to have been in the Homeless system for over four years, and “trapped” in the united states unable to work due to a lack of social security number; There were many things about her story I found off or strange and very odd–and so I knew never to trust her or anyone else for that matter– but it was the fact that she had brought up Shamanism first and foremost without me having so much as a word about anything, of course, coupled with the oddity that she would grind her teeth throughout the night as did my estranged ex husband and former roommate: a disease which I learned only affected 10-30% of the population in total: I suspected of course for the entire program to be some covert operation: The State was in fact, the same regime responsible for, just after the death of my son, fueled by lack of sleep from grief – tied me to a bed (though I had bee cooperative and non-violent) overdosed me involuntarily with a strange medication and allowed me to urinate myself, then lay for hours soaked in urine–and only after days of psychological abuse and torture, forcing me to talk to a Mormon Bishop, and sedating me with heavy doses of lithium— which deemed me unable to talk, move, or speak for several days–and caused me excruciating migraines—all for the sake of psychological experimentation. Of course, this was still The United States of America, a Globalist Republic– and of course, I was still a black woman–the most demonized, traumatized, criminalized existence on the face of the earth. My new roommate had talked openly for days about being attacked by some kind of spirit or demon, which forced her to gain weight; a demonic type force that supposedly sat in her stomach for and implanted certain thoughts in the form of voice in her head– at the same time, she had been increasingly adamant that I never burn sage or palo santo–she had already proven herself to be a snitch, as in the early morning hours of my first morning as her roomate, the Operations team flooded in, opened my drawer, and of course confiscated my $8 sage stick, luckily overlooking the palo santo–she of course pretended not to have narced, but over the coming days would allow it to slip that she had indeed told the Operations team of the sage, which caused them to follow up and confiscate it. I found Sage to be crucial to my protection and part of my religious sanctity: That anyhow, I had been made to eventually kill myself or fall prey to the system which would in any other way ensure that I was made to become ill by way of poor nutrition– The system failed to provide vegan or even vegetarian meals, and of course the same system made sure that my food benefits were handed out irregularly–I often had no money to eat at all, and just as well drifted into the memory of one of my last conversations with the host of the air bnb I had stayed at, who also seemed to have been on some kind of agenda–he had also constantly brought up things that I didn't want to talk about, consistently forcing conversations about race relations, the race war, how oppressed black people are, The White Supremacy, and other nightmarish perception-altering and overall negative assertions, leaving me with this: “I had to steal food!”, he said, claiming having once been homeless himself–a story I neither wanted to hear or honestly belied. It had been long since I could trust anyone besides myself, but especially a man–not that color had much to do with it, besides of course my constantly being reminded that I was stuck black. ‘All the more reason not to care.' I thought, my apathy becoming an overriding factor. I was starving–and though not quite in the actual stages of starvation, which I had staved off by eating genetically modified fruit over the last couple of days– which didn't appear to have any nutritional value at all and certainly didn't give my body any energy I could use, especially not to take the grueling one-hour ride to the dirty, overrun gym–which at least had a sauna and was 24 hours–but useless, as the sauna was closed during the overnight hours when I wanted to go, escaping my new roomates controlling habits, forceful talks equipped with code words and subliminal messages, the pesterance of being unable to cleanse the room with sage, and, of course — her almost nightmarish sensitivity to everything, which included light, the music in my headphones being too loud (so much so that I could hear the city noise over anything I could in my headphones, and of course made it impossible to work in ableton, as everything I did as she tried to sleep was “too loud”--even writing was forbidden, as I one had had been typing away at the 7th season's script and she asked that I not type at al– nor could I use my mixer, as the button pressing was “too loud”, and while most of my musical inspiration came at night, I could see that for whatever purpose, this person was being used to manipulate and control me once more- No burning sage, no making mixtapes, no typing… “You have the whole day when I am gone, you can do whatever you want.”, she said As if I myself didn't have things to do during the day–just getting to and from the gym taking stretches of precious time alone–of course met with another method of psychological torture– the constant drilling, hammering, and knocking about in the room directly above mine–which sometimes of course felt like being opened from the inside out, my synestesia poking holes in my sanity-and while that should have been enough of an excuse to spend all of my days at the gym–the gym itself had become a way for the system to control and manipulate my mind, for even as my body grew stronger, my mind grew weak and muddled being followed around by little white girls swinging their hair in my face, people coughing all around, and trash everywhere I had fallen into a heap of despair, as the combination of the date alone, the research I had been doing, the work I wasn't getting done, the money I wasn't making, and the lack of nutrition set in–the night shift operations refusing to allow me to use the can opener, after I had left it atop the microwave and not “put it in his hands”-- a classic misogynistic, controlling black man, he always gave the residents a terrible attitude, but I had no reason myself to dislike him before this moment. “I don't have to let you use the can opener.” He said. My only food for days had come from the food bank, besies the free GMO-fruit the shelter sometimes handed out, which had been making me sick and lethargic; of course, because it had come from a food bank, they required a can-opener–as the luxury of a pop-top had rarely been afforded with such off-brand food, I might have considered myself blessed to have, if it weren't for the “no cans” rule at the shelter: Neither did they provide a kitchen to cook in, and so residents were expected to eat microwave TV-dinners–but of course, there were no vegan and vegetarian options, and even if there had been, I wasn't absolutely sure that I would trust by God to eat it, as the two microwaves buzzed for hours at a time to warm the food fed three-times daily to the zombie like residents, who I sometimes observed in passing on my way in or out of the shelter. “This is my only food.”, I balked. “That's not my problem!” he said. “My food stamps aren't coming regularly: I got this at the food bank and it's the only food I have.”, I explained. “SO?!” He said “You're not even supposed to have that on the premises.” “I know.” , I said. “But it's the only food I have.” The system had been so inconsistent with my food benefits that I never could expect when I would be able to eat again, or for how long–it seemed it was all a sham to force me into the mental health system. I was malnourished, lethargic, and still injured from the fight I had been in just weeks earlier. “That's not my problem.” He scoffed. “So I can't use the can opener?” I asked. He just ignored me, shrugging. On any other day, i might have just brushed it off–but on this night in particular, hunger forged a deep tear into my soul, the weight of all I had been through plummeting down into one nearly-fatal blow – the man was arrogant as always but on this particular night seemed increasingly evil. “Yo, this is fucked up! I can't survive on only bananas and you don't have any Vegan options: my food stamps don't come regularly and I can't eat! This is FUCKED UP.” Even with all I had been through, I had realized I barely blew up–though far from an actual saint, I had been gifted with at least the patience of one, really only ever doomed to explode after a buildup–and it had been months of being what seemed like strategically terrorized: my fight delayed, keeping me trapped in the United States, prone to corporate slavery and no privacy at all, my bills outweighing any income I had the ability to make, trapped inside of my too-fat, too-black body for too long, and of course, being tormented by Skrillex, trapped in the homeless system, hazed by White Supremacists, blacklisted by Insomniac, and sent into an otherwise chaotic and segregated world from which I did not come from–i had been bullied, physically attacked, made to fight, consistently followed and of course, ever-presently chronically reminded of an abusive marriage which had left me homeless, mourning and grieving two dead children, and estranged from the third–who had in the care of his father become morbidly obese, subject to neglect, and unaware of my presense–let alone the love I had for him left–the only love I really had for anything anymore–and not that it mattered; I could not afford to care for him, or myself–and had become uncomfortably numb, sober, cellibate, and brainwashed enough to have once believed that I could succeed in entertainment–though, as it turned out– I had just been another useless subject of mass manipulation, predictive programming, human experimentation, and psychological terrorism– my life, among many didn't matter. I had been deemed useless, and doomed to be discarded at the age of 30. My suspicions had been confirmed; As I had collapsed into a heap of flesh, returning to the room in hunger and fury and throwing the three cans of vegetables to the ground, tears gushed from my eyes as I considerably died in more ways than one, over and over– overcome by the years of torture I had endured from the system itself, for whatever reason, and of course, a breakdown I would have otherwise avoided entirely, had my annoying roommate not earlier reminded me “Is it the 23rd?” and it was indeed the 23rd of May, the anniversary of my son's passing – he would have been 7 or 8, but I had lost count, attempting to erase the memory of my broken, fucked up world. To think, in another world I may have had 7 or 8 year old twins and a husband–which was in fact, all that I even wanted to begin with in the first place; I had given up my dreams of being a household name–a broadway actress, a television star, a world-class musician–I had given up my own dreams long ago. I left my body entirely, curling into a huddled ball in the workchair, tucking my head between my legs and under the desk, my arms in a tight grip underneath my knees–my mind racing and soul ripping from its capsule, hovering above my body and enamored that I had become thin enough to fall into such a position, as if bracing for impact in a plane crash; and suddenly, there I was–all at once, in-and-out of body “Brace for Impact!” The plane crash, of course – and all the other scenes I had yet to write playing over and over in my head– the stories of my innermost imagination shattering and spread across the starlit sky which I became in a fuchsia purple wisp, space and time forming around me–I was neither dead nor alive, and though I could still feel my abdomen firmly pressed against my thighs, I was so far outside of and above it looking down at it, completely gone–and though I could feel myself still breathing shallow, hollow breaths, I could no longer feel the weight of the anger, the sting of the hunger, or the grip of evil around my neck. It was indeed a Holy War–constantly haunted by memories of a past I only wished to forget, followed and prodded by soldiers of an unknown force–military? CIA? I didn't know , but it was certain that I was being watched and studied, my psychic inclinations and seemingly supernatural gifts becoming exploited and exposed throughout my entire life; My roomate had initiated too many conversations that just so eerily suggested that indeed, she too, had been marked with a task– collecting information about my psyche, living habits, preferences, diet, and, of course–history–and though she seemed kind enough and did have brown eyes, i would probably never trust another human being again. She rubbed my back as I sat, still rolled into a fetal position and weeping, for the time having been unable to move; as she stroked my back and rubbed my hair, half dredlocked and th usually shaven side overgrown into a curly patch on my head, I began to feel the soothing touch of another human being for the first time in years–as I had realized only days before on the subway, squeezed so tightly between two other people during rush hour transit that I could feel them both breathing–i noticed the remarkable truth that I had not been loved or touched in so long that this, being squeezed between two breathing humans, was somewhat soothing–and as I breathed myself heavily in and out, I began to return to my miserable body, in the less-than-miserable room we shared, but not so happily that I would ever become comfortable or call it home. I needed space, but couldn't seem to speak– I returned slowly to consciousness as the tension in my back arose to it's normal pressure, as I lifted my head, my neck clicking from the injury from the fightt. “Do you want to talk about it?” I didn't, but i could barely stand to move my head, and I was, indeed “Barely Breathing”, which I noticed, and seemed to have to cry a little bit more, and a little bit harder after a brief moment thinking about Dillon Francis, and though as I had left my body for quite some time and sat scattered across in all the remains of what might have been pieces of The Festival Project I had written for him, or even in the very least which had been so inspired by–a dark crevice had opened up into a black void, which seemed to occupy the space where my soul had once been, and any of the feelings I had kept there with him–For indeed, I had returned to my body, however, part of me was long gone– and I knew I had indeed faced another spiritual death, cast somehow just in a moment into yet another, even deeper realm of the afterlife, with nothing left to do to submit to it. “I'm probably going to kill myself by summer!” , Alex said–and for some reason her words rattled around in my brain superimposed as some sort of code which probably meant: You're going to kill yourself by summer. It felt true, and though I hadn't been pressed so hard against the doors of suicide, my mind had often drifted to a place of remorse for all that had happened- perhaps I was indeed trapped in a shamanic stronghold–and though I myself had been for some time equipped with healing powers, I had been reluctant to use black or Satanic magic to fight whatever had been the cause of my consistent homelessness, isolation, financial ruin, intense hunger– and foraged bitterness towards whatever external forces that seemed to rule over every entirety of my existence; I had been pulled apart, tortured, tormented, and disfigured in such a way that I wished not to live in the greedy, materialistic money-driven world anyhow. One of the napkins I had balled up and tossed into the Whole Foods bag that my roomate had held out for me the night before had been placed in my backpack, atop the bag where I kept the sage I had replaced and had been hiding and two pieces of palo santo–I didn't care so much as what the punishment would be and had chosen religiously to keep protecting myself, and though my freedom had been threatened, “They'll take you a worse shelter!”, my roomate had yelled, after interrogating me about “smoking” in the room— and, not that I would have allowed her to know, I conceded that in the event I was moved to an even worse shelter, I would simply jump in front of a train or from somewhere high up enough that I knew death was imminent, as so many had before and did each day: there wasn't anything worth living for anyway, and I had given up the fight entirely. The Festial Project was a mockery–Skrillex had been used to terrorize me, and Dillon Francis was no different–there was nothing and no one in the world that I could trust, who would ever understand me. But, I kept waking up in my horrible, miserable body–unloved and unwell, and so at the very least, kept burning my sage, saying my prayers, and wishing something would change–though according to the book I had been reading, slaves such as myself were raised to be disposed of at the age of 30. “In that case…” I had used the modest amount of money I had earned to restart my podcast subscription, knowing that it would be on a limited basis: I wasn't making any money, and was still being followed around by demons–which the book stated, were used to control and manipulate my existence at every turn, and it seemed that the Hell that I had been in for years was entirely inescapable, anyway. I had felt that she would use my downtime as I showered and continued to return to my body to check my bags–leaving behind the balled up napkin as a passive aggressive tactic to let me know that she was aware that I had obstinately lied– But if there was one thing I had learned, is that in the Hell I had been born into and pulled through for 30 years, is that honesty will only hurt you–something someone pretty, rich, and privileged like Bibi Bourelly, Sonny Moore, or even Dillon Francis would never understand–or perhaps, for at least the latter two, being men of great influence and power–knew all-too well. Well enough, at least. ‘This means that they will be locked up in a crazy house for the rest of their life. Rather than be put in straight-jackets with other crazy people it would be better for the person to commit suicide.' ‘twice the normal dose of two kinds of lithium carbonate to put her into a lethargic stupor' ‘The programmers are very careful to have heart monitors on the victim, and to have paddles ready to revive the body. ‘ ‘Dissociation is used as a defense to protect a person from overwhelming pain and trauma. It is a natural ability of the brain. Hypnosis or hypnotic trance is a form of dissociation. There are a number of types of dissociation: amnesia, somnambulistic states, localized paralyses, anaesthesias, and hallucinations. Hypnosis can reproduce all of these dissociative states. The mind naturally hypnotizes itself under various conditions. Hypnosis is a valuable tool to move the mind to different neurophysiological states and to get the mind to different levels of the subconscious mind. Hypnosis can also play a role in working around amnesia, since both are types of dissociation. Hyperventilation helps a person induct into a hypnotic trance. Torture, depersonalization, fear and acute anxiety stimulate the body to hyperventilate. Common objects in a person's life that can be hypnotically given a programming meaning include music, tones, colors, the sight of a book or Bible, the pyramid on the back of a dollar bill, pictures of God, silk scarfs, jewelry, lights, 93 sounds, TV programs, and countless other things. The limit to this is simply the programmer's creativity. A common hypnotic device for washing away pain is running water. MK Ultra Subproject 128 Delta - This is a Greek letter shaped like a triangle which symbolizes change in calculus. It has become a favorite word to use in naming things for the occult elite. Delta teams are 4 person assassination teams which usually are secret teams. Delta Forces is an elite unit that operates under the Joint chiefs of staff that is made up of highly trained total mind-controlled slaves. Delta models are slaves whose sole purpose is assassination. Delta alters are alters within an Illuminati alter system which are programmed to be assassins. These alters are often some of the deepest in a system and in a Genie bottle or with Umbrella programming.

DAVID GAUSA presents SUTIL SENSATIONS RADIO / N#433 TRACKLIST MAY 19th 2023 / 19 MAYO 2023 Rex The Dog 'Change This Pain For Ecstasy' - Kompakt Jefferson Airplane 'White Rabbit' (Kaz James & Nick Morgan Remix) - Three Six Zero Chris Lake & Aluna 'Beggin' - Black Book ACRAZE feat. Paige Cavell 'The Otherside' - Thrive Raven Maize 'The Real Life' (David Penn Remix) - Z Records Duke Dumont 'The Chant' (For Club Play Only, Pt. 8) - Club Blas / EMI Skrillex, Porter Robinson & Bibi Bourelly 'Still Here (with the ones that i came with)' (taken from 'Quest For Fire' LP) - OWSLA/Atlantic --- TRACK OF THE WEEK / TEMA DE LA SEMANA Samantha Loveridge, Treetalk 'Losing My Religion' - Get Physical --- NEW SUTIL RECORDS EXCLUSIVE! Marcal Prats 'Fascinated' - Sutil Records --- THE TECH HOUSE ZONE The Deepshakerz feat. Emilie Rachel 'Reasons' - Moon Harbour Biscits 'Don't Stop' - Insomniac Mochakk ft. Fernada Ouro 'NO8DO' (MOCHAKK's Club Mix) - Cercle James Hype 'Lose Control' - Insomniac Shiba San, AYAREZ 'Twist It' - Toolroom --- Elderbrook 'I Need You' (Adriatique Extended Remix) - Mine --- THE LAIDBACK ROOM / LA SALA 2 Four Tet 'Three Drums' - Text George FitzGerald ft. SYML 'Mother' - Double Six Sofia Kourtesis 'Madres' - Ninja Tune --- DAVID GAUSA IN THE MIX: #CANELAFINA TAKEOVER Made By Pete x Zoe Kypri 'Horizon Red' (Black Coffee Remix) (taken from 'CR20 The Album: Unreleased Gems and Remixes') - Crosstown Rebels Yulia Niko feat. Paul Brenning 'Just A Feeling' - Realm Franky Wah x Paige x Jem Cooke 'Heavy Heat' - Shen Roisin Murphy 'Evil Eyes' (Catz 'N Dogz Remix) Camelphat & Josh Gigante 'Your Mind' - When Stars Align Cassian x ICEHOUSE 'Great Southern Land' - Rose Avenue Depeche Mode 'Ghosts Again' (Massano Remix) - Columbia (Sony) --- THE CLASSIC / EL CLASICO Push (aka M.I.K.E.) 'Strange World' (2000 Remake) - Bonzai --- If you want to know more about DAVID GAUSA, visit: Si quieres saber mas de DAVID GAUSA, visita: http://www.davidgausa.com http://instagram.com/davidgausa http://www.facebook.com/davidgausa http://twitter.com/davidgausa http://soundcloud.com/davidgausa http://www.mixcloud.com/davidgausa http://www.youtube.com/davidgausa http://www.sutilrecords.com http://www.facebook.com/sutilrecords

Vicky Mesonero (No Cantes Victoria sobre los escenario) es de esas artistas cuya voz estremece cuando la escuchas en directo. Fuimos a dar una vuelta con ella y tuvimos una entretenida charla sobre su proyecto y el papel de la mujer en la industria musical. Nos interpretó un tema en directo a voz y piano que nos dejó sin palabras. Y, estando tan cerca del 8M, solo nos quedaba rellenar la Furgo con voces femeninas de todas las regiones y géneros, que hicieron de acompañamiento ideal para el paseo con Vicky. Os dejamos el tracklist del programa 19x14 de La Furgo: 00:56 >> Shego - "Steak tar tar" 03:40 >> Bibi Bourelly & Skrillex- "Painting rainbows" 06:52 >> Marala - "Disimula" 09:00 >> The Clams - "Salta" 13:47 >> Madison Cunningham - "In for Japan" 16:42 >> Mississippi Queen & The Wet Dogs - "Try Me" 22:26 >> Beyoncé - "Alien Superestar" 28:48 >> Rosalía - "LLYLM" 31:45 >> Entrevista a No Cantes Victoria 43:25 >> No Cantes Victoria en directo - "Imagination" 61:56 >> Sister Rosetta Tharpe - "Didnt it rain, children" 65:30 >> Big Mama Thornton - "Hound Dog" 76:55 >> No Cantes Victoria - "Cinnamon" 84:42 >> No Cantes Victoria - "Caught up with the Voodoo" 87:22 >> Morti Jaleo - "Autodefensa Feminista" 91:21 >> CPU - "Girls" 94:42 >> Pöls - "Yo virtual" 98:42 >> Ms Pink & Myah Sky - "Closure"

Enjoy this week's mix! Questions/Inquiries -> ronnie@rjzproductions.com-       Lay Low (Argy Remix) | Tiesto-       Make The Dream Work | James Poole-       Rude Boy - AANSE Remix | Rihanna-       I Love It - Anthem Kingz Heads Will Roll Edit | Icona Pop ft. Charli XCX-       Better Off Alone - Pickle Remix | Alice Deejay-       XENA | Skrillex, Nai Barghouti-       Inhale Exhale | Aluna, Skrillex, Kito-       A Street I Know | Skrillex, Eli Keszler-       Tears | Joker, Skrillex, Sleepnet-       Oi Oi Oi | Maxximal, Dubdogz, Mc Hollywood-       Lux (turn off the lights) | Tim Hox, Roc Dubloc-       La Bomba | Armin van Buuren, Blasterjaxx-       Still Here (with the ones that I came with) | Skrillex, Porter Robinson, Bibi Bourelly-       Skanka (VIP) | Hamdi-       Butterflies | Four Tet, Skrillex, Starrah-       Crazy In Love (feat. Gia Koka) | Solar State, Dualities-       I Wanna | Zookeeper-       Balança | Hardwell, VINNE

   Mason Ingram is a composer, session drummer, and Ableton programmer, living in Nashville. He is one-half of ambient music group slowave, acting as writer and producer.    He has been the drummer on Broadway's Kinky Boots, The Prom, and RENT (Off-Broadway). He has had the privilege of working with Bibi Bourelly, Angus & Julia Stone, Paul Baloche, The Discovery Channel, 070 Shake, Lewis Capaldi, NOTD, All These Small Moments, The Lone Bellow, Walking Shapes, Annaleigh Ashford, Shacks and Palaces, and Matt Doyle. He is a member of bands The Last Royals, Hundred Hounds, and Young Oceans, and has played on Broadway's The Lion King, The Waitress, Finding Neverland and Little Shop Of Horrors.     Mason also loves working in Abelton Live, from programming, to writing, and recording. He has programmed backing tracks for Broadway shows and pop tours including the current production of Little Shop of Horrors, La Jolla Playhouse's FLY, Pretty Woman London, Young Oceans, The Last Royals and many others.      Growing up in Austin, TX, he spent 13 years in Brooklyn, before moving to Nashville, where he currently lives with his wife and son. He loves writing, producing, mixing, collaborating, learning of any kind, and finding out new ways of creative inspiration.    He has appeared on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon, The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, Late Night with Seth Meyers, The Late Late Show with James Cordon, The Wendy Williams Show, LIVE with Kelly and Ryan, and Live at Lincoln Center, along with countless US and European tours. In this episode, Mason talks about:    Drumming on Broadway shows in New York City    The importance of playing with confidence    The why and how of the DAW Ableton    His duo Slowave and the compositional process    Prioritizing family    Managing technology to be inspiring, not distracting

Con música de St. Paul & The Broken Bones, Melissa Aldana, Bareto, Rose City Band, Bibi Bourelly y Belchior.

It's officially Roddy Ricch's turn. The Compton superstar has returned with his new album, LIVE LIFE FAST. The new album features Future, Lil Baby, 21 Savage, Kodak Black, Jamie Foxx, Ty Dolla Sign, Gunna, Fivio Foreign, Bibi Bourelly, Takeoff, and Alex Isley. On the production end, Mustard, TM88, Boi-1da, Cardogotwings, and more all lend a hand. Speaking about the new album with Apple Music, Roddy revealed his goal for this release. “They say you make your first album and you got your whole life to make your first album,” Ricch said. “Your whole life and you talk about everything. But like with your second album, you got from your first album to your second album to make that shit and talk about mainly what went on between them two. If you a real artist, you ain't just throwing shit out. It's like you got that time.It's like that's really what I wanted to touch on when I'm talking about this shit. How was it from understanding where it was going to like now and really giving my fans a piece of knowledge on that and just trying to just drop certain science on them, just talk certain talk.” What's going on Internet, Analytic here aka Dreamz and I would like to welcome you to mine, which I call the Notorious Mass Effect Podcast! I am your Hip-Hop / Gaming News source with a little bit of R&B mixed in. FOR EPISODE 81 “FKA TWIGS & THE WEEKND - TEARS IN THE CLUB” “RODDY RICCH - LIVE LIFE FAST” “MCU SPIDER-MAN ” “6LACK - RENT FREE” But before that make sure to Click my Linktree in my bio to access my social medias and follow, to keep up with my latest activities, if you want to financially support the show click my cash app link located towards the top of my linktree as it helps the show overall, also make sure to share this podcast rating the show 5 stars as this helps the show reach more people so we can grow together and effect the masses! --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/masseffect/support

Back in September, Roddy Ricch tweeted the title of his sophomore album, LIVE LIFE FAST. A few months later, on December 1, the Compton rapper shared a release date (December 17) and a still of him behind the wheel. Now, the album is out and available to hear in full. The follow-up to Roddy's 2019 debut Please Excuse Me for Being Antisocial features appearances from Future, Lil Baby, 21 Savage, Kodak Black, Jamie Foxx, Ty Dolla Sign, Gunna, Fivio Foreign, Bibi Bourelly, Takeoff, and Alex Isley. Likewise, the producers who contributed include TM88, Mustard, Boi-1da, Kenny Beats, Cardogotwings, Ronny J, and G-Ry. Listen and have a look at the tracklist below. --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/masseffect/support

On the 191st episode of Audioface:REVIEWS: "Back Of My Mind" by H.E.R., "HARAM!" by Goldlink, and "Butterfly 3000" by King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard.New Singles: "Law of Averages" by Vince Staples, "Lumberjack" by Tyler, The Creator, "Jackie" by Yves Tumor, and "Midnight Charm" by Jenevieve.(If you haven't already, check out our 2-part Radiohead bonus episode in your preferred podcast app. Thank you to those who have sent positive feedback about the episode!) Updates on the Pooh Shiesty case. The Back Of My Mind review. Moog instrument company faces accusations of a misogynistic work environment. The HARAM! review. Jay Z sues his photographer. The Butterfly 3000 review. Pop Smoke's second posthumous album is reportedly almost complete, Space Jam soundtrack drops, Post Malone gives us a reason to raise his taxes, and Rick Ross shows us how to save money.---SUPPORT AUDIOFACE!Subscribe to this podcast (or Follow on Spotify) so you don't miss new episodes on Mondays. Tell some friends about this show to keep it growing! We appreciate it, and you.Keep up with Audioface's 2021 Playlist:https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Gm0rc9gByK4idEhZw6oRu?si=a28c212ddf014641Reach out to us: https://twitter.com/audiofacepod/https://intsagram.com/audiofacepod/https://www.youtube.com/audiofacepod?sub_confirmation=1For advertising opportunities, email info (at) syndicate23 (dot) co

In today's episode: A LOT OF SONGS TODAY. We have some cheese breakdown, a special edition of Piping Hot Yams between Kevin Lindsay and Carlee Moran and we finish it out with a song spotlight. Let the battle begin Check us out on Youtube HERE! Subscribe to our podcast for some entertainment and music Follow us on Instagram @queueanda and DM us your recommendations. Let's hear your thoughts! Email us at queueandapodcast@gmail.com with your thoughts or recommendations on songs. Shout out to Johnny Rock for letting us use his music! He's a great producer and you can check him out here: https://j-rockny.bandcamp.com/ //// Yam & Cheese: Smoke & Retribution - Flume Like Water - Flume Free - Flume Lay Me Down - Sam Smith (Flume remix) Ecydsis - Flume High Beams - Flume The Difference - Flume Venom - Little Simz The Season / Carry Me - Anderson.Paak //// Piping Hot Yams: Watermelon Sugar - Harry Styles My Shot - Hamilton Feel Of Venus - Paul McCartney & Dominic Fike Thunderclouds - LSD, Diplo, Sia, Labrinth The Wave - Commonminds & Myles Cameron Feel You Now - The Driver Era Doctor - Remi Wolf Always Sayin' - The Littlest Man Band //// Song Spotlight: The Studio - Jackknife Lee, Bibi Bourelly, Barny Fletcher Only Child - Tierra Whack Hungry Hippo - Tierra Whack Hookers - Tierra Whack //// This podcast includes copyrighted material for the sole purpose of commentary, review, and education regarding the copyrighted material. Queue & A makes no claims of ownership of any of this copyrighted material. This use is protected under United States law, specifically Section 107 of the Copyright Act as it applies to fair use of copyrighted material for the purpose of criticism and commentary. If you are the owner of any copyrighted material appearing here and wish for it to not be utilized for this purpose, please contact us directly at queueandapodcast@gmail.com --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/queueandapodcast/support

Recorded 2020-09-15 14:07:44 Tracklisting: * Citra - All In Circles - Influenza Media * Mystic State - If You Knew - The Chikara Project * Talkre - Lockheed - Overview Music * Confusious, Soundscape, Collette Warren - The Descent - Fokuz Recordings * Refracta - Aqua - Midnight Bass * Duoscience - Closed Eyes - DNBB Digital * PLTX - Headspace - Self-Released on Bandcamp * Sl8r - 5am - Liquid Lab * Elixr - Say It - FILTR Records * Cutworx - Words - Influence Records * Mayforms - Walls - Influenza Media * HVRLYN - With Me - Riddim Records (Free) * Kumarachi - Siren - Delta9 Recordings * Modu - Horizon Now - Addictive Behaviour * Pharoah - Forever - Liondub International (Free) * Villem & Mcleod - Destination - Spearhead Records * Smote - Seasons - Fokuz Recordings * Monument Banks - Tidy Mind - Fokuz Recordings * PRSPKTV - Love Drops - Goldfat Records * PLTX - Twilight Zone - Dub * DJ Hybrid - Waiting - Patreon Exclusive * Simplification & Hiraeth feat. Ella Sopp - All I Need - Liquid V * Motiv - Fading Pictures - Fokuz Recordings * Absent - Visions - Free Download * Sonic Art & If-Read - Cloud Illusion (I Wannabe Remix) - Omni Music * Induktiv - Singularity - Liquidz Spirit (Free) * Kelayx - Sweet Home Chicago - Warm Communications * Anthropic - Maleh - Free Download * T:Base - Grey Skies - C Recordings * FX909 - Gone - FX909 Music * Artificial Intelligence - Signs Signs - Metalheadz * The Vanguard Project - Burning Up - Hospital Records * Blade - Summer Of 85 - ONE7SIX * Sl8r feat. Motiv & JAM - Rocky Rhodes - Liquid Lab * Easty - Next To You - Complex Records * DRS & Dynamite MC feat. Missing - Two Mics - Hospital Records * TOKiMONSTA ft Bibi Bourelly & Jean Deaux - One Day (Absent Remix) - Dub * Alpha Rhythm - Wardenfell - Celsius Recordings * Ikon-B - Caught Up - Format Music * Carter - Earth - Smooth N Groove Records * Greekboy & mSdoS - Burn Dem - Tribe Of Dub * Dan Guidance - Coastal Breeze - Celsius Recordings * Mark Dinimal feat. Medic MC - Love Rain - Vandal Limited * Science Of Man - All That's Left - Deep Pan * Fernando Ferreira - Backwoods Worker - Liquid Flow * DRS & Dynamite MC feat. DJ Marky - A Song For You - Hospital Records * Winslow - Better Nate Than Lever - CODE Recordings * pyxis & Collette Warren - Senses - Eloisa Records * ShortBall - No One To Blame - Free Download * Peter Lix - Somewhere - Dojo Audio * Joakuim - Speakerplants - Liquidz Spirit (Free) * Monika & Akuratyde - Crystalline - Fokuz Recordings * Alcemist feat. EJ Kitto - Raving - Born On Road * Brainwork & Leniz - Ukiyo - Differential Recordings Download, Distribute, and Donate!

1) TokiMONSTA – One Day ft. Bibi Bourelly & Jean Deaux 2) Salaam Remi – Roll The Dice ft. Gallant 3) Stretch & Bobbito – I Know You, I Live You ft. Maimouna Youssef 4) Childish Gambino – Feels Like Summer 5) OXP (Onra Pomrad ) – Low Down ft. Maiy Blaney 6) The Soul Rebels - It's up to You ft. Kes, Kayla Jasmine & Julian Gosin 7) Thundercat - Black Qualls ft. Steve Lacy & Steve Arrington 8) Zo! – Love Up ft. Eric Roberson & Carmen Rodgers 9) Dvsn - Courtside ft. Jessie Reyez 10) Robert Glasper – Endangered Black Woman ft. Andra Day & Staceyann Chin 11) Brasstracks – Too Far Too Fast ft. Thirdstory 12) Tall Black Guy – As the Night Moves ft. Devin Morrison 13) Harleighblu & Bluestaeb – Higher Than A Kite (interlude) 14) Nicole Bus – Friend Indeed 15) Macy Gray – Tell Me 16) BJ the Chicago Kid – Champagne 17) Adrian Younge – Strobe Lights ft. Gallant 18) Heather Victoria – My Favorite ft. Raheem DeVaughn 19) SGJAZZ – Make Me Feel ft. J.Lamotta 20) Terrace Martin - Oblivion ft. Malaya 21) RJD2 – Saboteur ft. Phonte Coleman 22) Thaddeus Dixon – All About You ft. Timothy Bloom & Talib Kweli

Here we go again with some attempts at blending my friends! This weeks show all songs are AS NEW AS POSSIBLE. So get googling, all these songs are so fresh you'll seems hip as heck if you share them with your pals and/or knew about them first. Fab talent like:Sylvan EssoSleepy GonzalesPan Amsterdam ft GutsTegan and Sara ft ShuraOpen Mike Eagle ft Kari FauxShitKidTokimonsta ft Bibi Bourelly and Jean DauxMissy DPeachesRicky Reed ft Leon Bridges and Kiana LedeEarthgangGorillazand as always, me with the weird improvs!hmu if you want to have your inspo turned into a tunechronfused on all socail media or chronfusd@gmail.com

Easy people Hope you enjoy this midweek madness mix very mixed bag so hope you like it Stay safe Tracklist: 1. Round & Round (Original Mix) by Smasher 2. Here We Go by Chuwy Beats 3. Get Down (Radio Mix) by Shosh 4. Genie In A Bottle (London vocal mix) by Christina Aguilera vs Atomic 5. Tell Me Ft. Jay Mac (Blakk Habit Remix) by K-Warren And Rubi Dan 6. Headshot (Original Mix) by Monista 7. If You Were Here Tonight (Daryl B & M Yardley vocal mix) by Tony Momrelle 8. Make It Hot by Mr W 9. Seasons by Lil Silva 10. Again (Redlight Remix) by Clipz 11. Pour Me Another One (Conducta Extended Mix) by Krept & Konan, Tabitha 12. Denial (Mikey B & Motion Remix) by Shanesa 13. Badderman Riddim by Champion 14. Run Dem Down (Prod by Trends) by Riko Dan 15. One Day ft. Bibi Bourelly & Jean Deaux (Zettin Remix) by TOKiMONSTA 16. 785 Girl ft. Marvin Ambrosius by DJ Paleface 17. 450 (Explcit) by BBCC (Bad Boy Chiller Crew) 18. Dash (Original Mix) by Chris Lorenzo 19. Bass Heads Ft. Shantie (Original Mix) by MPH 20. Bad Man Sound (Shagos Club Remix) by Marvel & Eli 21. Herbs & Spices (Original Mix) by Smasher 22. Lady (Hard Step Mix) by Scott & Leon 23. Treat Ting Me (Original Mix) by Matt Jam Lamont, Echelon, Yemi 24. Liferide (feat. Rose Windross & MC Creed) by N 'n' G 25. Family (Blakk Habit Remix) by Rubi Dan Presents Natz 26. Don't Play It Safe by DJ Q x Jack Junior 27. Gotta Get Through This (DND full Length version) by Daniel Bedingfield 28. Fake Friends (Midi Logic 2Step Bootleg) by PS1 29. The War Chant (Majestic Edit Extended Mix) by Chiedu Oraka x Deezkid 30. Party Down (Original Mix) by Ryuken 31. Vibe I'm On (Original Mix) by Smasher 32. You Lied To Me Ft.Jade Voice (Dark Dub) by Impact 33. Shapes (Conducta remix) by Sammy Virji #Wobble Bosh

Möt milleniumbarnen som skapade något vackert och hoppfullt ur hat och paranoia. Ingrid bidrog till Beyonces "Lemonade", Bibi Bourelly hjälpte till att föra Rihanna mot en mer trapinfluerad och utmanande riktning ("Bitch better have my money"), och Atlantasystrarna Chloe och Halle, nu aktuella med andra albumet "Ungodly hour", la suggestiv, flummig sång över brittiska ljud och den gamla crunkens åtta noll åtta-trummor. Allt pekade framåt. Från den 1/1-2017.

Crada hat schon in einer Zeit Musik mit Drake gemacht, als noch nicht ständig deutschsprachige Produzenten mit ihm gearbeitet haben. Vor ziemlich genau zehn Jahren produzierte er den Opener des Drizzy-Debüts »Thank Me Later« und wurde mit dem Song für einen Grammy nominiert. Neben »Fireworks« finden sich außerdem Beats für The L.O.X., Tinie Tempah, Talib Kweli, Jay Rock, Kendrick Lamar und Kid Cudi im Portfolio des Produzenten. Über die spricht Crada im Podcast mit Jan Wehn genauso wie über Studiosessions mit Rita Ora, Emeli Sandé, Tim Bendzko, Cassandra Steen und Bibi Bourelly. Außerdem geht es um den leider viel zu früh verstorbenen Ali Rasul, der eine ganz besondere Rolle in Cradas Leben gespielt hat, erste DJ-Sets für seine Eltern und Sessions mit Travis Scott und einem per Telefon zugeschalteten Mike Dean. Intro/Outro: Ahzumjot Mix: Jan Wehn Foto: Leon Grunau Hier ALL GOOD bei Patreon unterstützen: www.patreon.com/allgood Hier ALL GOOD bei Steady unterstützen: www.steadyhq.com/de/allgoodde Hier ALL GOOD via PayPal unterstützen: www.paypal.me/ALLGOODDE

Download episode 57 of The Fire & Ice Show featuring: Degrees Of Motion, Nomad, Nick Brewer Ft.Bibi Bourelly, Luyo Ft. Marcia & Gary Hudgins, Simon Adams & Max Millan, Nitro DeLuxe & Norty Cotto, Yooks, Davide Migliardi, DJ Kone & Marc Palacios, Mark Di Meo Ft. Nickson, DJ Spen & Irvin Madden, Mo' Cream, Revived Pleasure, Din Jay, Korma, Paul Darey Ft. Joe Red & Harry Romero, Twism Ft.Tom Novy, Wavy Dot & Karmina Dai, Duskope, Carl H Ft. Jade Leigh & Paul Benjamin......... Fire & Ice Show Saturdays on dejavufm.com 7-9 PM, Listen on dejavufm.com, Facebook or The Tuneinapp. Download the podcast from dejavufm.com, ITunes, Mixcloud, Soundcloud & Spotify

Phoebe Aurelia The Lovely Natured Show - 24 May 2020 B.S - Jhene Aiko ft HER Lil boi - Queen Naija Whoever - Amira Jazeera Nobody - Miraa May In too deep - ilham Roll some mo - Lucky Daye Love me right - Amber Mark Until I met hmu - Alina Baraz ft Nas Bussit - Dreamville ft Ari Lennox Man - JoJo We tried, we tried - AMA Lou Do - Khai Wishing for - Alana Soul Not everything - Amun Move - Kara Marni Am I wrong - Anderson.Paak ft School Boy Q Talk to me - Kadeem Tyrell I.F.L.Y - Bazzi Pick me - Wafia Lose my cool - Amber Mark Fixated - Yasmeen Do it - Chloe X Halle Cash rules - iyla ft method man Can’t lose - Benji Flow Deep end - Benji Flow Yard - Goldlink ft WSTRN Zulu screams - Goldlink ft Maleek Berry, Bibi Bourelly

Hoy escuchamos 'Dreamland', la nueva canción de Glass Animals pero también a Jorja Smith con Kiss Me In The Morning', una de las canciones de la banda sonora de la serie 'The Eddy', a Jacobo Serra junto a Xoel López con 'A Plena Luz', al propio Xoel con 'Joana', a Fetén Fetén junto a Depedro y, entre otras cosas, a Ginebras estrenando con nosotros otra de sus descargas divertidas y llenas de energía, 'Vintage'. XOEL LÓPEZ - Joanha, JACOBO SERRA feas. XOEL LÓPEZ - A Plena Luz, CHARLIE BURG - Channel Orange In Your Living Room, FETÉN FETÉN feat. DEPEDRO - Para Olvidarte, THE EDDY feat. JORJA SMITH - Kiss Me In The Morning, EADES - Same Guy, MOURN - Call You Back, ENRIQUE BUNBURY - Las Palabras, JESS WILLIAMSON – Smoke, THE CRAB APPLES - System Overload, KATY J PERSON - Take Back The Radio, GINEBRAS - Vintage, HOTEL LUX - Tabloid Newspaper, FONTAINES D.C. - Boys In The Better Land, GLASS ANIMALS- Dreamland, HAIM - I Know Alone, DJDS_No Trust (ft. Bibi Bourelly & Kiah Victoria) Escuchar audio

Tracklist : 01- Jonwayne - Sticky Bandits 02- Travi$ Scott - Stargazing 03- Charli XCX - Rrring (ft. Charli XCX) 04- SOHN - Hard Liquor 05- Amp Fiddler - Grandma's Radio (ft. Sound Boy) 06- Eddy de Pretto - Quartier des lunes 07- AllttA - The Woods 08- Chance the Rapper - Let's Go On The Run 09- ZZ Ward - Ride (ft. Gary Clark Jr) 10- Dr. Dre - Animals (ft. Anderson .Paak) 11- The Shoes - I wanna be like THE SHOES 12- Pasquinel - If I Ruled The World (Flip) 13- Kanye West - Garden (Live Beat Snippet) 14- Christine - Break a Paw (ft. Museau) 15- Santigold - Coo Coo Coo 16- SebastiAn - Beograd (Edit) 17- Justice - Safe and Sound (WWW) 18- Dua Lipa - Be The One (With You. Remix) 19- Oddisee - Things 20- GoldLink - Zulu Screams (ft. Maleek Berry & Bibi Bourelly) 21- AlunaGeorge - Famous 22- The XX - On Hold (Jamie XX Remix) 23- Travi$ Scott - Antidote 24- Lil Uzi Vert - Hi Roller [Produced by Maaly Raw] 25- Jonathan Wilson - Over the Midnight

Don’t forget to use @shazam to find your favourite SMR artist! . . Artist: Bibi Bourelly Location: Berlin, Germany & Washington, DC Instagram: @bibibourelly Apple Music: Bibi Bourelly Spotify: Bibi Bourelly SoundCloud: Bibi Bourelly . . . SONG LIST: 1. Material Things 2. Ballin 3. Wet . . . Don’t be afraid to use @SHAZAM to find Bibi Bourellys music! . . CONNECT WITH US! IHeartRadio: Shalisa Marie Radio Instagram: @shalisamarieradio Apple Podcast: Shalisa Marie Radio Spotify: Shalisa Marie Radio Anchor: Shalisa Marie Radio YouTube: Shalisa Marie Radio . . . Welcome to SMR VIBES! This will be a new project under Shalisa Marie Radio, representing the best underground artists all over the world. Our intentions are set on providing support to all independent artists, to help keep them driven and drive as many future fans to their page (just through a click of a button: SHARE)”. Each episode will highlight ONE artist and three to four of their songs. This will instantly create future fans for the artist and will overall help promote their brand. @wav . . . . #music #undergroundmusic #independentartists #toronto #6ix #canada #rap #singer #podcasts #torontopodcasts #artist #musicians #bibibourelly #shalisamarieradio #rnb #newyork #atlanta #losangeles #supportandshare

This week we're taking a look at the new album from GoldLink, Diaspora. This is the Head Space Podcast episode 128 where we break down new Hip Hop albums track by track. Holden Stephan Roy (HSR) is here with his thoughts on each song and is excited to read your comments. 03:19 General Chit Chat about GoldLink06:36 //Error08:25 Joke Ting (Ft. Ari PenSmith)15:36 Maniac21:04 Days Like This (Ft. Khalid)26:34  Zulu Screams (Ft. Maleek Berry, Bibi Bourelly)30:29 More34:52 Cokewhite (Ft. Pusha T)40:49 U Say (Ft. Tyler, The Creator, Jay Prince)44:52 Yard (Ft. WSTRN) 48:16 Spanish Song51:39 No Lie (Ft. WizKid)56:08 Tiff Freestyle58:19 Rumble (Ft. Jackson Wang, Lil Nei) 01:01:10 Swoosh - Diaspora album review grade reveal Check out GoldLink - Diaspora on Spotify and do your own review:https://open.spotify.com/album/790qROmQ1y4aPEYLcSkScH?si=bty5B-dYQ_-cvFHiUdw-xA Join the request pool on Patreon:https://www.patreon.com/BehindThatSuit Check out HSR's music:https://open.spotify.com/artist/2ZtYJhikrhYuf0xhL4wqTn?si=JVEtxjpXTsiMBjR_Lg0Fjghttps://hsr514.bandcamp.com/ Join the Behind That Suit Discord Server:https://discord.gg/nzn6xqu Comment below and feel free to keep in touch: FB: https://www.facebook.com/behindthatsuit/@BehindThatSuit HSR:FB: https://www.facebook.com/HSR514/Twitter/IG: @HSR514Musical Endeavours:https://youtube.com/hsrisnothiphophttps://youtube.com/hsr514 Chris Chrome:Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/officialxchromeTwitter/IG: @chrischrome93FB: https://www.facebook.com/ChrisChrome93 #BehindThatSuit #GoldLink #Diaspora

De Washington à l’international, GoldLink tisse les liens d’une « Diaspora » musicale avec brio. Après un précédent album sous forme d’une mosaïque musicale de sa région, le rappeur ajoute à sa discographie riche et sans reproche une production aux sonorités multiples, afro-caribéennes parfois, aux synthés colorés, tournée vers l’Afrique essentiellement. En défrichant de nouveaux styles, GoldLink évite l’écueil de l’appropriation culturelle, grâce à une équipe de prod complètement recomposée et en respect total avec les influences dans lesquelles ils piochent. Sous ses aspects dansants, derrière le flow élastique et sautillant de GoldLink, « Diapora » est un album faussement facile, loin de l’easy listening, et son auteur bien plus qu’un ambianceur. Une belle expérimentation pour le rap américain et un très bel album, tout court. Animé par Mehdi Maïzi avec Shkyd, Raphaël Da Cruz et Aurélien Chapuis. RECOMMANDATIONS ET RECOSLA RECO DE NEMO : le rappeur « Dave B », qui vient de sortir l’album « Bleu ».LA RECO DE RAPH : le duo « Villain Park » qui sort son album « The Recipe ».LA RECO DE SHKYD : « Good Compagny » de Tone Stith. RÉFÉRENCES CITÉES DANS L’ÉMISSIONShy Glizzy, Wale, Diaspora (GoldLink, 2019), At what cost (GoldLink, 2017), Crew (GoldLink, 2017), Kaytranada, Louie Lastic, P2J, DJ Juls, Burna Boy, Mr Eazi, Unforgettable (French Montana feat Swae Lee, Jungle Rules, 2017), Pusha T, Travis Scott, Made for now (Janet Jackson feat. Daddy Yankee, 2018), More Life (Drake, 2017), Maleek Berry, Wizkid, Bibi Bourelly, Big Sean, Tyler, The Creator, Jackson Wang, Best Kept Secret, Mark Ronson, Lovers Rock (Estelle, 2018), Bleu (Dave B, 2019), The Recipe (Villain Park, 2019), Good Compagny (Tone Smith, 2018). CRÉDITS NoFun est un podcast de Binge Audio animé par Mehdi Maïzi. Cet épisode a été enregistré le 18 juin 2019 au studio V. Despentes de Binge Audio (Paris, 19e). Réalisation : Quentin Bresson. Générique : Shkyd. Chargée de production : Juliette Livartowski. Chargée d’édition : Camille Regache. Identité graphique : Sébastien Brothier (Upian). Direction des programmes : Joël Ronez. Direction de la rédaction : David Carzon. Direction générale : Gabrielle Boeri-Charles. See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

Greg and Ben discuss DJ Khaled’s beef with Billboard, the Jonas Brothers documentary, Spotify wanting some money back, The Police’s “Synchronicity” and Earworms of the Week! Twinkle Schascle - Hold Me GoldLink - Zulu Screams (ft. Maleek Berry & Bibi Bourelly) Check out our website! www.bythetimeyouhearthis.com facebook.com/bythetimeyouhearthis Follow us on Instagram: @bythetimeuhearthis, @gplaysitcool, @benwattsphoto Email: bythetimeuhearthis@gmail.com Subscribe on iTunes, Podomatic, Castbox, Satchel Podcast Player, TuneIn Radio, Overcast, Otto Radio, Google Music and Spotify! Search us on listennotes.com

On Episode 79, we feature a wide variety of undiscovered music ranging from future bass bangers to hip-hop influenced trap beats. Tune in for new music from MEMBA, Miles Away, Fairlane, Elijah Hill, and many more! Tweet your questions & comments at @AllTrapNation with #TrapNationRadio. Don’t forget to rate and review on all of your favorite podcast apps. Follow Trap Nation on YouTube - youtube.com/alltrapnation! 01. MAGIC! - Rude (Arcando & Oddcube Remix) 02. Far Out - Rise 03. The Chainsmokers - Who Do You Love (ft. 5SOS) (EBEN Remix) 04. TomFat - 61 05. Philter - Revolver (Linko Remix) 06. Neovaii - Take It Back 07. ODESZA - Corners of the Earth (ft. RY X) (MEMBA Remix) 08. Hermitude - Stupid World (ft. Bibi Bourelly) 09. Fairlane & Zack Gray - What You Promised 10. Whethan - Top Shelf (Choice Remix) 11. NEFFEX - Cold (Elijah Hill Remix) 12. Nora Van Elken - Missing You (ft. Zack Gray) (Sound Quelle Remix) 13. San Holo - I Still See Your Face 14. Taylor Swift - ME! (ft. Brandon Urie) (Miles Away Remix) 15. Lauv & Troye Sivan - I’m So Tired (Arcando Remix) 16. ReauBeau & Loris Cimino - Louder (ft. Twan Ray) 17. YUNGBLUD & Halsey - 11 Minutes (ft. Travis Barker) (Tom Wilson Remix) 18. Manilla Killa - ALL 2 U (Jay Vazz Remix) 19. Fairlane - Puzzle (ft. Claire Ridgely)

Be sure to let Louis The Child know what you think about this episode using #playgroundradio 01. Tyler, The Creator - I THINK [WEEKEND TRACK] 02. Black Loops - Suki 03. Romare - The Blues (It Began In Africa) 04. Modjo - On Fire 05. Sam.STS - Applesauce 06. Rampa - Mascha 07. GoldLink - Zulu Screams (ft. Maleek Berry, Bibi Bourelly) 08. DUCKWRTH - NOBODY FALLS (feat. Kiana Lede, Terrace Martin & Medasin) 09. Elohim & AWOLNATION - flagpole sitta 10. Easy Life - Sunday 11. Mo’ Horizons - Yes Baby Yes 12. Rae & Christian - Blazing the Crop 13. Ursula 1000 - We Go High 14. AUGUST 08 - Blood On My Hands (feat. Smino) 15. Bonobo - Bambro Koyo Ganda (feat. Innov Gnawa) 16. Clap! Clap! - Oriens. Oriri 17. Death Cab For Cutie - I Dreamt We Spoke Again (Louis The Child Remix) [PLAYGROUND PICK]

Tracklist Eto & Superior - Take Y'all Back (feat. Skyzoo) Rapsody - Phylicia (feat. Buddy) DJ Premier - Headlines (feat. Westside Gunn, Conway & Benny) Planet Asia - Off The Turf DJ Duke & Large Professor - Hard As Steel Ghostnaut & Raw Collective - A Dream (feat. Kid Abstrakt & Raw Deezy) Dinos - Les pleurs du mal Georgio - Les anges déchus, les gens déçus Ghostnaut - Raindrops [Feat. Dante Maxwell & Makizar] (Live) Nahh G - Mo Ma Inscience - Call Me / Let Me Go Illa J & Atamone - Why I Came To You Un Amour Suprême - Partie I Reality Check - Binary Star The Actual - All City Fades em all - Jamal Get Down - Beanie Sigel The Battlefield - Ghostface Killah Cold As Ice - M.O.P. Word is life - Poor Righteous Teachers Backwards - Mobb Deep D'Evils - Jay-Z Black Trump - Cocoa Brovaz Feat. Raekwon What's Golden - Jurassic 5 Black Rain - Citizen Kane Work the Angles - Dilated Peoples Right and Exact - Dilated Peoples Thick - D.I.T.C. Leflah - Heltah Skeltah Western Ways - Delinquent Habits Feat. Big Pun Lost in thought - Funkdoobiest R.N.S. - Freddie Foxxx Seen It All - Screwball Positive And Negative - Promoe Tuxedo - The Tuxedo Way The Pendletons - Life To Me Yuna - Blank Marquee (Feat. G-Eazy) GoldLink - Zulu Screams (Feat. Maleek Berry & Bibi Bourelly)

Tracklist Eto & Superior - Take Y'all Back (feat. Skyzoo) Rapsody - Phylicia (feat. Buddy) DJ Premier - Headlines (feat. Westside Gunn, Conway & Benny) Planet Asia - Off The Turf DJ Duke & Large Professor - Hard As Steel Ghostnaut & Raw Collective - A Dream (feat. Kid Abstrakt & Raw Deezy) Dinos - Les pleurs du mal Georgio - Les anges déchus, les gens déçus Ghostnaut - Raindrops [Feat. Dante Maxwell & Makizar] (Live) Nahh G - Mo Ma Inscience - Call Me / Let Me Go Illa J & Atamone - Why I Came To You Un Amour Suprême - Partie I Reality Check - Binary Star The Actual - All City Fades em all - Jamal Get Down - Beanie Sigel The Battlefield - Ghostface Killah Cold As Ice - M.O.P. Word is life - Poor Righteous Teachers Backwards - Mobb Deep D'Evils - Jay-Z Black Trump - Cocoa Brovaz Feat. Raekwon What's Golden - Jurassic 5 Black Rain - Citizen Kane Work the Angles - Dilated Peoples Right and Exact - Dilated Peoples Thick - D.I.T.C. Leflah - Heltah Skeltah Western Ways - Delinquent Habits Feat. Big Pun Lost in thought - Funkdoobiest R.N.S. - Freddie Foxxx Seen It All - Screwball Positive And Negative - Promoe Tuxedo - The Tuxedo Way The Pendletons - Life To Me Yuna - Blank Marquee (Feat. G-Eazy) GoldLink - Zulu Screams (Feat. Maleek Berry & Bibi Bourelly)

01. K I I - 9 [Part 2] 02. Hermitude, Daktyl - Stupid World (feat. Bibi Bourelly) 03. Droeloe - Only Be Me 04. X&G - GRAVITY (feat. Josh Pan) 05. missu - demon 06. Yagami Koro - Yokai in Cyberpunk 07. Yagami Koro - Fucking Future 08. REDRICK SHEWHART - Something Not Evil 09. Bleep Bloop - Desert Rain 10. SHADES - Black Heart Communion 11. BitLoud - Limiter Abuse 12. Teddy Killerz - Pandora 13. Yellow Claw, Nonsens - Give It to Me 14. DJ Snake feat. Yellow Claw - Ocho Cinco 15. Mr. Bill & Esseks - Beat With Bill 16. GRiZ - Can't Get Enough 17. ColtCuts - Airports 18. The Upbeats - Oddity 19. Bricksquash - Gottiii 20. What So Not - Divide & Conquer (Noisia Remix) 21. Balatron - HUGINN 22. Frequent & COPYCATT - Tom's Battery 23. Ahee - Heat 24. Levitate - I'll Pray For You 25. RL Grime - Pressure 26. VCTRE - Animagus 27. ghostmolly & Yagami Koro - Metrix 28. Noisia - Get Deaded 29. REDRICK SHEWHART - No Smile 30. Protostar, Muzzy - MELTDOWN 31. A.M.C. - Look Out 32. Protostar - PURSUIT 33. Noisia & The Upbeats - Dead Limit 34. Teddy Killerz - Person 35. The Prodigy - We Live Forever (Teddy Killerz Remix) 36. REDRICK SHEWHART - Black Tears Path 37. Kalininsky - XENIUM 38. Ariandel - Lover

01. K I I - 9 [Part 2] 02. Hermitude, Daktyl - Stupid World (feat. Bibi Bourelly) 03. Droeloe - Only Be Me 04. XandG - GRAVITY (feat. Josh Pan) 05. missu - demon 06. Yagami Koro - Yokai in Cyberpunk 07. Yagami Koro - Fucking Future 08. REDRICK SHEWHART - Something Not Evil 09. Bleep Bloop - Desert Rain 10. SHADES - Black Heart Communion 11. BitLoud - Limiter Abuse 12. Teddy Killerz - Pandora 13. Yellow Claw, Nonsens - Give It to Me 14. DJ Snake feat. Yellow Claw - Ocho Cinco 15. Mr. Bill and Esseks - Beat With Bill 16. GRiZ - Can't Get Enough 17. ColtCuts - Airports 18. The Upbeats - Oddity 19. Bricksquash - Gottiii 20. What So Not - Divide and Conquer (Noisia Remix) 21. Balatron - HUGINN 22. Frequent and COPYCATT - Tom's Battery 23. Ahee - Heat 24. Levitate - I'll Pray For You 25. RL Grime - Pressure 26. VCTRE - Animagus 27. ghostmolly and Yagami Koro - Metrix 28. Noisia - Get Deaded 29. REDRICK SHEWHART - No Smile 30. Protostar, Muzzy - MELTDOWN 31. A.M.C. - Look Out 32. Protostar - PURSUIT 33. Noisia and The Upbeats - Dead Limit 34. Teddy Killerz - Person 35. The Prodigy - We Live Forever (Teddy Killerz Remix) 36. REDRICK SHEWHART - Black Tears Path 37. Kalininsky - XENIUM 38. Ariandel - Lover

Reg and Stone unpack the surprising and tragic death of rapper XXXTentacion and the controversy around his career. As more and more Soundcloud rappers become victims of violence, we ask....are we returning to 1996? Plus....Jay+Bey's return, the wack Nas album, and new music from Jay Rock and Bibi Bourelly. See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

01. Anyway - Chris Brown ft. Tayla Parx [0:00] 02. Chains - Usher ft. Nas & Bibi Bourelly [1:31] 03. Mindful - K. Michelle [4:04] 04. Finished - Amen-Ra [5:54] 05. Team - Iggy Azalea [9:35] 06. You Could Be My Lover - Puff Daddy & The Family ft. Ty Dolla $ign & Gizzle [12:28] 07. That's On You - Kid Ink [15:25] 08. Picture Me Rollin' - Chris Brown [17:59] 09. Saved - Ty Dolla $ign ft. E-40 [20:44] 10. Promise - Kid Ink ft. Fetty Wap [23:11] 11. She Wildin' - Fabolous ft. Chris Brown [26:33] 12. Work - Rihanna ft. Drake [30:05] 13. No Sense - Justin Bieber ft. Travi$ Scott [33:21] 14. You Don't Know - Tank ft. Wale [35:57] 15. Wrist - Chris Brown ft. Solo Lucci [38:34] 16. Everybody Say - Trey Songz ft. Dave East & DJ Drama [40:39] 17. She Don't - Ella Mai ft. Ty Dolla $ign [44:26] 18. I Know How It Feel - Ace Hood ft. Ty Dolla $ign [47:35] 19. Kiss It Better - Rihanna [50:23] 20. B's & H's - Jhené Aiko [52:48] 21. Solid - Ty Dolla $ign ft. Babyface [55:47] 22. No Pressure - Justin Bieber ft. Big Sean [58:10] 23. Low Life - Future ft. The Weeknd [1:00:14] 24. Not A Little Bit - K. Michelle [1:03:38]

01. Anyway - Chris Brown ft. Tayla Parx [0:00] 02. Chains - Usher ft. Nas & Bibi Bourelly [1:31] 03. Mindful - K. Michelle [4:04] 04. Finished - Amen-Ra [5:54] 05. Team - Iggy Azalea [9:35] 06. You Could Be My Lover - Puff Daddy & The Family ft. Ty Dolla $ign & Gizzle [12:28] 07. That's On You - Kid Ink [15:25] 08. Picture Me Rollin' - Chris Brown [17:59] 09. Saved - Ty Dolla $ign ft. E-40 [20:44] 10. Promise - Kid Ink ft. Fetty Wap [23:11] 11. She Wildin’ - Fabolous ft. Chris Brown [26:33] 12. Work - Rihanna ft. Drake [30:05] 13. No Sense - Justin Bieber ft. Travi$ Scott [33:21] 14. You Don't Know - Tank ft. Wale [35:57] 15. Wrist - Chris Brown ft. Solo Lucci [38:34] 16. Everybody Say - Trey Songz ft. Dave East & DJ Drama [40:39] 17. She Don't - Ella Mai ft. Ty Dolla $ign [44:26] 18. I Know How It Feel - Ace Hood ft. Ty Dolla $ign [47:35] 19. Kiss It Better - Rihanna [50:23] 20. B’s & H’s - Jhené Aiko [52:48] 21. Solid - Ty Dolla $ign ft. Babyface [55:47] 22. No Pressure - Justin Bieber ft. Big Sean [58:10] 23. Low Life - Future ft. The Weeknd [1:00:14] 24. Not A Little Bit - K. Michelle [1:03:38]

SISTER drop a huge announcement on Episode 26, the crew are joining the OWSLA Europe tour with upcoming dates at Amsterdam Dance Event, Cologne and London next month. Get ready to be introduced to curlykills, the latest member to linkup with the SISTER collective. She drops a bass heavy mix with massive energy and exclusive edits from start to finish. Carly also chatted to former special guests on the show GTA at Sziget Festival, they cover all bases and talk about collaborations with Bibi Bourelly and Vince Staples. OWSLA Europe tickets // www.owsla.com/eu2017 Follow: https://soundcloud.com/curlykills

Season 2 Episode 21 i.e. Episode 74 of Elite Muzik Radio, features music from the likes of MeLo-X & Bibi Bourelly, Scottie Kash, Lambo Anlo, Sophoa Kapri, Manu Crooks, Passport RAV, Tom Bailey, Tiffany Gouchè, Sey, Abjo and more. Vibe out to the episode in full below Peep the full track-listing for the episode below.Keep up with show via Twitter. Instagram. Facebook.DJ Eternity:. Twitter InstagramElite Muzik:. Twitter Instagram FacebookEpisode 74 Tracklist. MeLo-X & Bibi Bourelly: Random Shit Pt. 2 (2:06) Scottie Kash: Ferrari (4:25) Lambo Anlo: On My Way (7:10) Passport Rav: Delayed Flights (8:59) Manu Crooks: Scary Hours Freestyle (11:34) Sophia Kapri: Good Vibes Only ft. Cadillac Freeze (13:18) Zee Will: Go The Distance ( Prod. Jukebawks ) (15:39) Caleb Kunle: Eden (18:13) Tom Bailey: missing your touch (20:35) Name UL: WINTER (23:01) Alex Aff: Oh My Ft. Defacto Thezpian & Danny Blaze (prd. Alex Aff) (25:31) ZE' BRAINCHILD (B8TA): ONLY U 934 (27:04) Syren Songs: SYPV1 (28:59) Tiffany Gouché: DIVE (30:50) SMOOTH OPERATOR 3000: Bailekah Badu (33:46) Naja & Jus Hailu: Still Remember (35:32) NanaBcool: 1:59 (37:41) Sylo Nozra: herside sylo flip (39:35) KA-YU: Obrigado (41:03) Sey: Ain't Cha (42:26) Fattini.: Saudade (45:06) Jahn Rome: Kool-Aid (Prod. Kojo a.) (47:08) NK-OK: LIFE (part 2) (48:48) amorphous: yes (50:21) Charlotte Dos Santos: King Of Hearts (52:45) Brittney Carter: Fairly Decent 2.0 (55:54) ricky rambo: Lather, Rinse, Repeat (58:04) AbJo: Hai Yah! (1:00:28) lezlow: howlongontillyoukissme (1:02:20) Subscribe via SoundcloudThis podcast is powered by Pinecast. Try Pinecast for free, forever, no credit card required. If you decide to upgrade, use coupon code r-1aea92 for 40% off for 4 months, and support Elite Muzik Radio.

This time around I sit with the super cool human that is Bibi Bourelli and talk weed, wine, and societies woes. Be sure to listen until the very end for a extra def accoustic version of her hit single "Ballin" .

Guest Bibi Bourelly. Boogie D from NY, A-Plus from VA, Miss Pooh & DJ Sir Thurl from STL make up the weekly Brickcave Crew Podcast. Witness the collision of worlds as they explore everything from today’s foolery to music to sports to politics. In this episode the Brickcave Crew hang out with songwriter and singer BiBi Bourelly. Toast to Friends. Toast to Laughs. Toast to Brick!

Det handlar om milleniumbarnen som skapar något vackert och hoppfullt ur hat och paranoia. Ingrid bidrog till Beyonce's banbrytande Lemonade, Bibi Bourelly hjälpte till att föra Rihanna mot en mer trapinfluerad och utmanande riktning och Atlanta-systrarna Chloe och Halle, 18 och 16, lägger suggestiv, flummig sång över brittiska ljud och den gamla crunkens åtta noll åtta-trummor. Framtiden är ljus.

Every week thousands of songs are released to radio, on streaming platforms, on digital stores, on social media, mixtapes, & CD albums. It would be impossible for the average musick lover to absorb this & sift through them -- That's why you have me. I'm Jakob Musick, & I was meant for this. You could say it's in my blood, or genes. Or Whatever. Several new great songs (& one um......er, 'interesting' one) present themselves today. Re-releases from Chicane & Lloyd, as well as introductions to new artists Bibi Bourelly & Dave East today! A blend of EDM, R&B, Hip-Hop, & Pop. Recorded in Jacksonville, Florida during Hurricane Matthew! Today! 1. As Tears Go By (Live) - Marianne Faithfull - Acoustic Pop - Verycords (Edel) 2. Sleep Like A Baby - K. Michelle - R&B - Atlantic (Warner Music Group) 3. I Prayed For This - Dondria, Da Brat, Jermaine Dupri - Hip Hop - Not Commercially Released 4. Keisha - Dave East - Hip Hop - Mass Appeal 5. Stand - Trey Songz - Pop - Atlantic (Warner Music Group) 6. Ballin' - Bibi Bourelly - Pop - Def Jam (Vivendi) 7. Everyday - Lloyd, Rich Boy - R&B - Young Goldie/Self-Released (Re-issue) 8. Strong In Love - Chicane, Mason - Vocal Trance - Armada (Re-Issue Worst. Sit Down - Kent Jones, Ty Dolla Sign, Lil Dicky, E-40 - Hip Hop - Not Commercially Released Best. Hatefuck - Cruel Youth - Pop - Disgrace Please Support your artists!! Independent artists need your support on social media, spotify, & Itunes! Leaderboard: Artist: Die Antwoord (3) Genre: Hip Hop (35) Label: TIE Mass Appeal/Armada/Atlantic (4) Conglomerate/Parent: Vivendi (13) Thank you!

On this weeks episode of The Report Card Podcast we review the albums "Jeffery" by Young Thug, "Elmatic" by Elzhi, "Late Nights Europe" by Jeremih, "Prima Donna" by Vince Staples, and "Free The Real (Pt 1) EP" by Bibi Bourelly.    TRC 29 Playlist BEST ON SHUFFLE Email trc@thereportcardlive.com   Instagram @TRCPodcast Twitter @trcpodcastlive @soloyalclothinginc The Report Card Podcast Facebook   Soundcloud   Tumblr   Google+   You can subscribe to us on iTunes, Google Music Play, iHeart Radio, Stitcher, Soundcloud, Youtube, Libsyn, and tuneIn. NEW SCORING A+  100 Classic A     99-96 Classic A     95-92 Amazing A-    92 Amazing B+   91 Fire B     90-88 Fire B     87-84 Dope B-    83 Dope C+   82 Solid C     81-79 Solid C     78-75 Average C-    74 Average D+   73 Needed Work D     72-70 Needed Work D     69-65 Trash F     -65   Trash   Like. Comment. Subscribe,Review Thank you to everyone who listens weekly.

Televisor – Sound Of Love (feat. River) Dj Kenno – Will Griggs on fire Bibi Bourelly – Sally Disclosure – Help Me Lose My Mind (feat. London Grammar) ABRA – Crybaby Alicia Keys – In Common The Bloody Beetroots – Second Streets Have No Name (feat. Beta Bow) Jarvis – Shock Tujamo – Who Corona […]

SISTER. Global. Rave. Material. We're not gonna lie, the preview gang have dubbed SISTER - Episode 7 as the best yet! Obvs, we're going to let you decide your own verdict on that. In the guest-mix we've got 12th Planet, a producer who helped to bring Dubstep from the UK to the US and his mix definitely underlines just why! Plus an exclusive interview with the incredible rising star that is Bibi Bourelly. Let us know what you think :-) x

In Episode 4, we chat to singer/writer Bibi Bourelly on writing for RiRi, collaborating with Usher and challenge her to a game of 'Twitter Guess Who’. We get the fashion lowdown on customisation and festival outfits, chat about the state of UK nightlife and why clubs are closing, plus ask people at ASOS to spill their best date stories. See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

This week on A Waste of Time with ItsTheReal, we welcome two young artists who are about to hit it big: Bibi Bourelly (signed to Def Jam via Berlin, Germany) and Tate Kobang (signed to 300 Entertainment via Baltimore, Maryland)! Bibi sat down with us to discuss getting kicked out of high school, buying a one-way ticket to Los Angeles, using Twitter to make friends, selling Bitch Better Have My Money to Rihanna, meeting Kanye West, becoming great buddies with Skrillex, what writer's camps are really like, writing with Usher, her new project Free The Real, and so much more! Tate stopped by to talk about writing rhymes for his uncle who rapped, the dance crew he grew up in, working with Nelly, working with Swizz Beatz, wanting to work with Shania Twain, FaceTiming with Lyor Cohen and DJ Khaled, and much more! See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

In episode 20 of Black Girl Squee, Inda Lauryn and Didi Jenning talk about queer Black women in Chicago's Black Liberation Movement and Bibi Bourelly's new inclusive music video during Squeeworthy News. Then we recap the first two episodes of WGN's Underground. A lot of misguided folks Catch the Fade from us before we launch into one of our thirstiest DWIDP's yet! Intro/Outro music is "Fuck You Symphony" by Millie Jackson. Contact us at Twitter: @blackgirlsquee @indascorner @dustdaughter Tumblr: blackgirlsquee.tumblr.com Email: blackgirlsquee@gmail.com iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/black-girl-squees-podcast/id1029727623?mt=2

Catch the live radio show every Saturday 3-6pm GMT on rhythmnationradio.co.uk. Do not miss it if you want to keep up to date with the fresh tunes, music developments and gossip !!!!Justin Bieber feat. Ariana Grande - What Do You Mean (Remix)Stooshe - Lock DownRick Ross - Geechi Liberace Loick feat. K Koke - GloryMila J - Real G Eazy feat. Starrah - Order More K Camp feat. Akon & 50 Cent - Comfortable (Remix) Chrisette Michele - Steady Logic feat. Lucy Rose - Innermission** What's The 411 - News And Gossip **Justin Bieber feat. Nas - We Are Jeremih - OuiRick Ross & Nas - One Of Us Pusha T - Untouchable Anderson Paak - The Season/Carry MeLion Babe - Where Do We GoPimp C feat. Nas & Juicy J - Friends Wideboys & Dennis G - Sambuca 2015 Chase & Status feat. Bonkaz - Wha GwarnKyle Lettman - CrushMatoma feat. Wale & Popcaan - Everything Is Nice*Interview with Ady Suleiman*Ady Suleiman feat. Joey Bada$$ - What's The ScoreAdy Suleiman - Ain't The BeepAdy Suleiman - Drink Too MuchISHi FT French Montana & Raekwon - We Run*Top 5 Chart*5. Travi$ Scott - Antidote 4. Missy Elliott ft Pharrell Williams - WTF (Where They From) 3. Tory Lanez - Say It 2. Drake - Hotline Bling 1. WSTRN - In2Busta Rhymes feat. Fabolous, Jadakiss, Styles P - Respect My Conglomerate 2 Usher ft Bibi Bourelly & Nas - Chains J Doe ft Sevyn Streeter - Theme Song** Ty Dolla $ign - TC - 3 Album Tracks **Ty Dolla $ign feat. Babyface - Solid Ty Dolla $ign feat. Jagged Edge - Straight Up Ty Dolla $ign feat. Kanye West & Diddy - Guard Down** Record Of The Week **Kyle Lettman feat. Coco Dupree - Matter Of TimeRay J - Curtains Closed Shakka - You Don't Know What You Do To MeR. Kelly feat. Juicy J - Marching Band A Tribe Called Quest - Can I Kick It 2015 (J. Cole Remix)