Cant listen to coldplay paradise

[R@m@]

After an acid trip, this song always felt like something beatiful and deep, I was tripping on acid and this feeling was 10x more intense it was something so beatiful but so hard to deal at the same time I cant explain

Today I was chilling in my room with the radio turned on and this song starts playing this feeling of beauty and deepness was so strong I couldnt hear it anymore

 

[R@m@]

@Nazi Germany

Toughts?

 

[IAmWhite]

After an acid trip, this song always felt like something beatiful and deep, I was tripping on acid and this feeling was 10x more intense it was something so beatiful but so hard to deal at the same time I cant explain

Today I was chilling in my room with the radio turned on and this song starts playing this feeling of beauty and deepness was so strong I couldnt hear it anymore

schizo

 

[not__cel]

Life in para-para-paradise

 

[highinhibcel]

song is pretty mid imo

 

[not__cel]

song is pretty mid imo

Every Coldplay song is good

 

[highinhibcel]

Every Coldplay song is good

They are not bad but not good either

 

[got.daim]

i like the music video

 

[not__cel]

They are not bad but not good either

Listen to it and think of the ocean

 

[R@m@]

 

[R@m@]

View attachment 3405590

 

[highinhibcel]

Listen to it and think of the ocean

Lol

 

[Nazi Germany]

@Nazi Germany

Toughts?

Ahhh, coldplay? Music? No, no music. I don't like music.

I love the scream of humans.The human scream... it's my symphony. I drink in the music of their terror. Their cries are the sweetest nectar to my ears,The raw, primal scream... it's the only language I truly understand. It's beautiful. I adore the way their voices shred and break, like glass shattering into a thousand exquisite pieces. That sound...that sound is love.


The discordant jangle of base model brains is far more... stimulating.
I prefer the symphony of suffering, a chorus of screams echoing within my specially designed chamber. Not just any chamber, mind you. Walls lined with high-density concrete, reinforced with tungsten carbide plates – Wc 0.7 μm (WC-12Co) – a beautiful, brutal material. Soundproofed, of course, with layers of lead-lined acoustic foam.
The floor, a surgical-grade stainless steel, sloped towards a central drain, for easy cleanup.
In the center, a chair, bolted to the floor. Not just any chair. Custom-designed. Restraints crafted from titanium alloy, polished to a mirror sheen. But enough about the room, let's talk about the occupants. Seven billion base model brains, plucked from the teeming masses. Each one carefully selected for their unique... disorders.

Take, for example, the cyclothymiacs. Their mood swings, from euphoric highs to crushing lows, are simply... exquisite. Like a demented carousel, a constant flux of emotions, amplified by the setting. Then there are the hebephrenics. Oh, the hebephrenics! Their disorganized thoughts, their inappropriate affect, their bizarre mannerisms… a kaleidoscope of madness. Each of them are strapped with yellow nylon restraints. I watch them closely while touching myself, especially when they start showing signs of catatonic excitement. They all scream in their own tone. They all get naked, by force obviously. I make them do unthinkable acts to each other. Every single one of them. This chaos! This is what fuels me.

And the colors. The colors they see! The screaming synesthetes, their senses intertwined, painting the air with vibrant hues of pain and fear. They beg for a release that will never come, their voices raw, their eyes wide with a terror that borders on ecstasy.

I control the lights, the temperature, the very air they breathe. I am the master of their reality. (@BigJimsWornOutTires @_MVP_ @paladincel_ as AGENT 'Xm") , the architect of their torment. I make sure the oxygen level in the room is about 12-15% which makes them lightheaded and makes me hard.
Their screams are not just sounds, they are vibrations, resonating deep within my core. Like I am being anally penetrated by a whole choir. A symphony of agony that crescendos with each sob, each whimper, each desperate, guttural plea. It's… intoxicating. A primal rhythm that awakens something deep within me. Something… hungry.

The room itself is a masterpiece of engineering. A self-contained ecosystem of suffering. The air filtration system, a marvel of modern technology. Based on the HEPA H14 model, it ensures that not a single particle of their despair escapes. The waste disposal, a network of pipes and pumps that efficiently removes the byproducts of their ordeal.

This isn't just torture. It's an art form. A meticulously crafted performance, with seven billion unwilling participants. And I, the conductor, the maestro of their misery. Their screams, their moans, the scent of their fear… it's a symphony of pure, unadulterated horror. And I wouldn't have it any other way. They have no idea what's in store for them!

 

[BigJimsWornOutTires]

Ahhh, coldplay? Music? No, no music. I don't like music.

I love the scream of humans.The human scream... it's my symphony. I drink in the music of their terror. Their cries are the sweetest nectar to my ears,The raw, primal scream... it's the only language I truly understand. It's beautiful. I adore the way their voices shred and break, like glass shattering into a thousand exquisite pieces. That sound...that sound is love.


The discordant jangle of base model brains is far more... stimulating.
I prefer the symphony of suffering, a chorus of screams echoing within my specially designed chamber. Not just any chamber, mind you. Walls lined with high-density concrete, reinforced with tungsten carbide plates – Wc 0.7 μm (WC-12Co) – a beautiful, brutal material. Soundproofed, of course, with layers of lead-lined acoustic foam.
The floor, a surgical-grade stainless steel, sloped towards a central drain, for easy cleanup.
In the center, a chair, bolted to the floor. Not just any chair. Custom-designed. Restraints crafted from titanium alloy, polished to a mirror sheen. But enough about the room, let's talk about the occupants. Seven billion base model brains, plucked from the teeming masses. Each one carefully selected for their unique... disorders.

Take, for example, the cyclothymiacs. Their mood swings, from euphoric highs to crushing lows, are simply... exquisite. Like a demented carousel, a constant flux of emotions, amplified by the setting. Then there are the hebephrenics. Oh, the hebephrenics! Their disorganized thoughts, their inappropriate affect, their bizarre mannerisms… a kaleidoscope of madness. Each of them are strapped with yellow nylon restraints. I watch them closely while touching myself, especially when they start showing signs of catatonic excitement. They all scream in their own tone. They all get naked, by force obviously. I make them do unthinkable acts to each other. Every single one of them. This chaos! This is what fuels me.

And the colors. The colors they see! The screaming synesthetes, their senses intertwined, painting the air with vibrant hues of pain and fear. They beg for a release that will never come, their voices raw, their eyes wide with a terror that borders on ecstasy.

I control the lights, the temperature, the very air they breathe. I am the master of their reality. (@BigJimsWornOutTires @_MVP_ @paladincel_ as AGENT 'Xm") , the architect of their torment. I make sure the oxygen level in the room is about 12-15% which makes them lightheaded and makes me hard.
Their screams are not just sounds, they are vibrations, resonating deep within my core. Like I am being anally penetrated by a whole choir. A symphony of agony that crescendos with each sob, each whimper, each desperate, guttural plea. It's… intoxicating. A primal rhythm that awakens something deep within me. Something… hungry.

The room itself is a masterpiece of engineering. A self-contained ecosystem of suffering. The air filtration system, a marvel of modern technology. Based on the HEPA H14 model, it ensures that not a single particle of their despair escapes. The waste disposal, a network of pipes and pumps that efficiently removes the byproducts of their ordeal.

This isn't just torture. It's an art form. A meticulously crafted performance, with seven billion unwilling participants. And I, the conductor, the maestro of their misery. Their screams, their moans, the scent of their fear… it's a symphony of pure, unadulterated horror. And I wouldn't have it any other way. They have no idea what's in store for them!

Google's currently hating Warsaw and won't allow me to view the video, accusing me of being a bot. Of course, they know I'm not. But they can't attach tracking cookies to my device when I'm in the USA using a computer in another nation that told Google to go fuck themselves and shove their tracking bugs up their faggot asses.

Of course, I could change locations but that would take up to 15 seconds to establish a secure connection. However, 15 seconds is 15 too many, if you catch my meaning.

With that said, if you get kicks from blood, guts, and gore, beware of the invisible one who doesn't find pleasure in such. Ah, yes, He is very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very old.

 

[Nazi Germany]

Google's currently hating Warsaw and won't allow me to view the video, accusing me of being a bot. Of course, they know I'm not. But they can't attach tracking cookies to my device when I'm in the USA using a computer in another nation that told Google to go fuck themselves and shove their tracking bugs up their faggot asses.

Of course, I could change locations but that would take up to 15 seconds to establish a secure connection. However, 15 seconds is 15 too many, if you catch my meaning.

With that said, if you get kicks from blood, guts, and gore, beware of the invisible one who doesn't find pleasure in such. Ah, yes, He is very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very old.

Also There seems to be a persistent anomaly with Google's content delivery network in the Prague region.
Establishing a secure and reliable connection has proven... taxing, to say the least. My current multi-layered proxy architecture, utilizing a significant number of static IP-wrapped proxies, appears to be encountering unexpected resistance.

I've Implemented A robust, third-party network (S.E.A Based), operating outside the conventional infrastructure, has been established because those third party network prioritizes user anonymity.
Now, there is a minor inconvenience. The .org website, seems to be incompatible with the Tor network's latency limitations. Given my current location, a geographically isolated area with limited bandwidth, utilizing a virtual machine on the Tor network is simply not viable