Borrowed Faces is a five-song postcard from the liminal hours—hotel carpet at 4 a.m., cruise ship engine-room at dusk, browser window on 2 % battery. Each lyric started as a private therapy session with my personally crafted GPT; every answer cycled through Suno, got warped, re-voiced, and dusted with field noises until fingerprints showed.

Borrowed Faces – city stroll where every grin is on loan and identity fees accrue by the breath.

Riptide Shortcut – the hyper-creative travel self and the sluggish home self race the same current.

Broken Captcha – glitch confession about proving you’re real when the website isn’t sure.

Traffic Cone – an orange safety prop hogs the airport spotlight, then wilts beneath it.

Social Circuits – 80-hour unwanted system install distilled into red alarm lights.

The OBJKT player is a suitcase jukebox: tap to hear any track, watch its cover art breathe in seamless loops, and drift into extra micro-animations stitched from the same dream palette. No stems, no sub-menus—just five rooms you can enter, linger, and exit at will.

Slip on these borrowed emotions; return them when the last note exhales.