Whether in an AIM profile, MySpace bio line, Facebook status, or Instagram caption, song lyrics are what I chose time & time again [and apparently still choose for many Nostr notes] to share in these digital text fields. The playlist linked here are the 70 songs I referenced in notes from November 2025-October 2026. In hindsight, it's mostly a collection of tunes that played a part in the process of grieving the loss of my dad. Songs 1-7 were posted while he was still living, and nothing of the caliber of what was to come over the horizon was at all perceived, but strangely, at some deeper level, maybe there was a sensing, in the similar way you might dream of a person and the next day or so receive a message from them in some shape or form. Songs 8-11 were posted while he was in ICU and #12 was the first lyric shared after his passing. From there, the theme of grieving seems to sever around song #54 and everything after that heads in a different direction, at least to my current perception. Strangely enough though, he would have turned 70 this July, and it seems a fitting way to cap the playlist. All that to say, I'd like to think there's a song in here that might resonate with you. Other than that, keep going, & maybe I'll see you out there. Swanoda Miyotaii Domino P.

Spotify

Dad Trax

Freedom Quest

In and out of the garden he goes.

I’m on the last train runnin’.

I shared this same photo to a community wall on YouTube, a feature I only recently discovered and a community [Stefan Burns] I didn't participate with prior. Sure, a like is meaningless, but it makes ya wonder a bit. View quoted note →

As we rowed on out to Fennario.

Like the bare tree waiting for spring.

And it's just a box of rain.

Sun rising in haze.

Times are tighter than ever.

Today I put my phone down It didn't have a cord attached So who knows where it might end up Just a table, just a table out of view Our perceptions weaken as we stray from those we've known Different men we become, stronger yet frailer, all at once I used to be a dreamer, an optimist Someone you might say, was full of shit But you really never know how the world can change, because the world never ceases to change every day I put my phone down, and the river's frequency is louder now I wish I never let go of those dreams, what were they any how? •

 I left my phone inside today Where did I put it any way?

Such elegiac violence.

In the timbers of Fennario.

Zoom out, zoom in, sit still, dance.

This current's strong so I learn to row.

Time intimately weaves through you.

The compass always points to Terrapin.

Pure absence, without expectation.

Trees said their smarts aren't in the books they wrote.