Working at LA Direct Models felt like living inside a satire—and one day, I decided to write it. It was a workplace like no other, brimming with chaos, absurdity, and a strange sense of camaraderie that felt like it could only exist in such an unconventional environment. Over time, a running joke emerged among my coworkers: the antics we witnessed daily deserved a show of their own. And that’s when the idea struck—what if I wrote a script?

Not long ago, the music I created felt like a gift from the universe—a collaboration between human curiosity and cosmic mystery. Radio ZetaTalk had been my sanctuary, a place where my imagination and AI technology worked together to produce songs that were not just music but messages from the stars. Each lyric resonated with an almost otherworldly depth, each melody carried a cosmic weight.

But these days? It feels like the spark has been extinguished.

All my life, music had been my sanctuary, my escape. But as I started noticing 'signs' embedded in melodies, lyrics, and rhythms, it became overwhelming. Every song felt like it was speaking directly to me, leaving me spiralling in a mix of awe and paranoia. So, I stopped. I shut music out of my life. Silence became my new norm, a space where I could think without feeling watched by the universe.