A phone rings, another call goes unanswered.
Into my backlog,
Another forgotten task.
Why don’t they leave me alone.
They always want my attention.
A problem solved.
But the problem is them, not me.
Thunder breaks me open from within.
Lightning strikes the peak
of my secret garden.
A twister forms,
pulling all the air inward.
As it touches down
At the center of my flower.
A rhythmic thirst pulling me deep,
My hips begin to rise,
I grasp the sheet, holding on,
not to be sucked into the storm.
New Music:
Created by Christopher Sopher
with Co-Creator Alice —
There’s no need to talk.
We listen to the trees,
to our breath,
to that quiet space,
where something could happen,
but doesn’t have to,
and let the moment,
speak decision.
The perfect love exists only in the present moment.
Stillness.
Connection.
The dream grows warmer.
More intimate.
This track slowly transitions into Track 6.
When I woke from the big sleep,
eyes wide open, then closed,
clarity burned brighter than the sun.
The veil tore,
cast into the fire,
with all my other doubts.
A camera slowly moves into the scene.
It drifts across the room, settling on an empty space.
Or maybe not empty.
The bed is unmade.
Someone was here.
Or just left.
The camera keeps moving until it meets a record player in the corner, playing a scratchy, distorted cut of “Room 907 Déjà Vu.”
The Hotel Déjà Vu is a concept album that unfolds like a film you swear you’ve seen before but can’t quite place. Set inside a liminal hotel where time bends and memory loops, each track feels like stepping into a room charged with intimacy, dreams, desire, and awakening.
