#Madcore: High core

    An extended arm with a grainy edit and a pink background. A poem reads: "High Core You ruined my Friday Like you used to ruin all of my days You, rage, and your friend, depression You were both filling me with an infinite void That no one could make up for But not anymore I get to fly now, I get to go higher, and higher And maybe everyone would look at me and say She won against the illness She won against the emotions But that's wrong too I learnt how to play with you Because you two were never my enemies Being free isn't being regulated And I'll go tell that to the entire world Liberation for everyone"

    Trash music is my favourite music. The yells, the frying, the bass, the pure chaos. I feel at home and you pieces of shit of a regulating elite will not police the fuck out of me.