Jun 21, 2025
File #003 - Re: Hardstyle Tempo
The BPM hits and something cracks open. It's not music, it's war drums in neon. A synthetic high that lives in the chest, not the ears.
At 150+ beats per minute, I stop thinking. I start becoming.
In this moment, I am velocity. I am mood armor. I am the final form of a feeling I haven't named yet. Don't ask me to calm down. I just learned how to exist loud.