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View Profile Troisnyx
IPA: /tʁwɑ.niks/ || Singer-songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, visual artist, writer. Member of ARM Circle. Drummer with The Just Numbers.
Speaks in various tones of meeps.

Annette Singh @Troisnyx

28, Female

N/A

Lancashire, UK

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Troisnyx's News

Posted by Troisnyx - May 26th, 2017


To begin, I have reached 600 fans. Actually, a bit more, but meeeeep!

I really want to thank all of you who have followed me, and who still are. You guys are awesome. I never imagined getting this much support at all. Just...... thank you.

The timing couldn't be better, too. Some two Mondays ago, I released what I believe to be my best piece yet -- namely, Mio/Homura EXTEND ver. I would embed the Newgrounds player onto this post ordinarily, but it's having embed issues. So, for this post, content yourselves with the link and the Soundcloud embed below.

 

In previous posts I'd gone over the context of the piece, mentioning the demons I was trying to exorcise with the making of Mio/Homura... I am pleased to say that all the resentment I felt prior to the release of this piece of music is now gone. It all just melted away. ^_^ I am in bliss over this piece.

 

I am still reeling from the excitement that I felt over this when I released this. I think I'll get back to producing new songs when I am ready. Part of the excitement doesn't yet die down because there's still the music video for Mio/Homura to be recorded, and we're getting bits together. We've found the clothes and shoes to be used, we've found makeup artists who are trying on that facepaint idea of mine as I speak, we've found the location to film this. There still needs to be leatherwork done on my drum strap and beaters, for comfort and historical accuracy. So, that's a thing. Watch this space.

 


 

So, for those of you who are interested in the music I make, I've set up a Discord chat. If you'd like to join it, feel free to access it here.

I will try to access it once a week, say, Saturday evening unless things arise on any particular Saturday evening. Anyway, let me know in the comments section below if you consider joining, and I'll be sure to keep people informed to the best of my ability.

 


 

20 May marked three years since Seán and I got engaged. I am just so grateful that he is in my life. He's supported me an awful lot, and I've come a decent way in healing the mental and psychological scars, in large part, thanks to him. I love him. <3

In fact, you see I spoke of Mio/Homura above: he was the one who persuaded me and begged me to remake it. I was determined to just give it up altogether, but he pleaded with me. "Don't abandon it, please," I kept hearing him say.

We celebrated that anniversary in simplicity, really. We went to town, had lunch at the Harris Museum, and just generally appreciated each other's company and meepy meep. We don't like extravagance all that much, so it did us fine. The most important thing that day is that we had each other.

 


 

It may not seem like much, but I've started work on what I hope will be an NG skin, commemorating the Audio Portal and its artists.

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So far, I have @ZStriefel (not in shot), @hania (not in shot), @Waterflame, @Phyrnna, @Xtrullor, @NekoMika, myself, @RealFaction, @EvilRaccoon and @Bosa. This is evidently not enough; I'd like more representation of the Audio Portal and the avatars musicians use. So, if anyone would like to come forward with information about current and past NG musicians' visual representations, please do so in the comments section below. I would really appreciate that. And granted, it'll take me a while, but the more people the better, because I'd like to put forth to everyone the immense diversity of the Audio Portal.

I think the only person I can think of whose actual face I can use is @etherealwinds, but I haven't drawn him yet. Not sure if he wants me to use another image though. Meep.

EDIT: New design.

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Posted by Troisnyx - May 15th, 2017


I STRONGLY recommend that you listen to all 7 minutes and 20 seconds of this thing because one side of this piece cannot exist without the other.

As you may probably have gathered from listening, I poured my entire self -- joys, sorrows, fears, dreams, hopes, into this thing, just as I did five years ago when this piece originally came out. I sang, beat the drum and the tambourine, sequenced the rest of the instruments and mixed as I went along.

I'm just happy that it's done. So happy. The demons associated with this piece and the years that followed have been exorcised. I am pleasantly tired. Yesterday, I went upstairs to take an afternoon nap -- I wound up sleeping for the rest of the evening / night. I was that tired.

Meanwhile, I am at Soundskills, the place I volunteer at twice weekly, and also the place where I will eventually be recording the music video for Mio/Homura. At 14:30 today some friends and I are gonna draw up more detailed plans for it than just the concept shots. Now that this piece of music is done, it can finally be listened to while we think up what angles work. I'm really so happy...

Can I say I've hit my full musical potential yet, though? No, not really. There's still more to come. I cannot be complacent now, or ever, for that matter. And it's a sobering thought. The triumphal nature of Mio/Homura is not the end of my musical journey. I think it's only really just begun.

Associated links:


Posted by Troisnyx - May 11th, 2017


It has been hard, while this one particular song is nearing completion, to think of a description or to even broach the subject without going on about the hurt I felt, and still feel, and why. Put it this way, I am the type who WILL go on and on about an injustice done to me until it has been righted. I always have had this tendency since I was a child. This is something I will not stop doing now.

The full, extended version of this track, at its peak, will be released on Monday 15 May 2017.

Yes, it has been hard to mention the title Mio/Homura without bringing to mind the bastards who decided to tear me down (I will not be mentioning names, you all fucking know who you are). But the circle will now be complete: in addition to Mio/Homura being extended, there will also be a music video. Complete with green screen. And face and body paint. That will be arranged by friends at Soundskills. Considering the wonderful job they did with Asperges Me, I'm counting on them to give people the shock of their lives when they see the video for Mio/Homura. The ugly duckling is turning into a swan.

But before I go onto what led me to write Mio/Homura in the first place, I'm going to go back further still. To my childhood, in fact.

 


 

Those of you who know me or who have read my past posts and interviews will know about the abuse I suffered under my parents, and under the state where I grew up. Those of you who do not, I tried to go over it a little bit in a post titled GRAFT, some months back.

I want to add something to all this.

As children, many of us may not know what we are capable of, but we're more than happy to try. We're more than happy to say "I want to be an astronaut" or "I want to be a musician" or "I want to be a hero" -- we nearly never settle for mediocrity. Some of us, while we are still children, have that ability to believe that we're capable of so much, and are capable of rendering everyone around us silent with what we do. And so it is with me.

And of course, that capability and that refusal to settle for mediocrity will only get pissed on by bastards who don't care about us, or our futures. In my case, it was my parents, the state I grew up, and people around me. My parents did so by beating me up until there were scars and bruises, tearing up my original sheet music, yelling at me, hurling all sorts of insults against me, threatening me with death, nearly making good these death threats at various points in time, and refusing to fund any further study in music that I so yearned to pursue -- I was only an accessory to show off to the neighbours' parents, "oh, look how my daughter does this and this and this." The state where I grew up did this by denying job, education and welfare opportunities to minorities like myself, and by repressing the slightest dissent by taking people away in the night to be imprisoned, tortured, interrogated, even killed. People around me did this by ganging up with my parents in calling me useless, denying that I should even be listened to because I was a child and apparently didn't know better about where my place was supposed to be in the world. I was meant to be "seen and not heard."

In fact, I think the only people who even actually supported me, saw me for who I was, were men and women of the church -- and the people associated with them, the few friends I even had. But I couldn't even hope to claim sanctuary in a church or a monastery or anything of the sort because I only knew that my parents, or other people at my parents' behest, would drag me out for more rounds of abuse. No authorities would be willing to help me, and the people who did cherish me were powerless in that way. There was an unspoken rule that you always had to go to your parents, and you were always taken back there. Mental illness was never spoken about where I grew up. No one would suspect abuse. It was always the child's fault if a child ever ran away from home.

 


 

Fast forward to 2012; I had been in Britain for getting on two years and I was at university. I had only heard about the Newgrounds Audio Deathmatch for the first time that year, and so, believing in my musical ability, I decided to take part. I had no knowledge of mixing whatsoever. I had only used FL Studio 9, or 10 as it later became, for a year, knowing only the music theory side of things. There were only 32 people allowed to compete in the individual knockout round stages, as opposed to the 64 that we now have. I don't know how many people auditioned for the NGADM that year, but I was one of the 32 who would make it.

You accept, as a participant of the NGADM, that when circumstances get too much to handle -- and yes, they can often be out of your control -- there are only two options: find the time to make the music, or bow out. I accepted them from day one, and being a student at the time, did my best to handle whatever I could control. I had just begun my Legal Practice Course at the time, surprise, surprise, as a follow-up from having been press-ganged by my hateful family to do law because I was basically threatened with death. The idea was that I would have enough time to wrestle getting my accommodation, papers and beginning stages of the course under way while working on songs.

I remember every opponent I went across. I remember EVERYTHING.

And I have never forgotten it for the last five years.

 


 

After the NGADM of that year, my musical capacity increased by leaps and bounds, in ways people never imagined. Frankly, I couldn't have imagined it either. I bought my first bodhrán, an 18-inch, entry-level, factory piece with a really thick, sanded skin so there were no hairs on it. I struggled with it, but after a year, the movement became second nature to me. I wound up playing it an awful lot. It became my favourite drum.

But the whole instrument learning thing wasn't just going to stop there, oh no. In between then and now, I have picked up the bass guitar, tin whistle and harp. I also became a bit more confident of my drumming, and the medieval long drum I have now has superseded the bodhrán as my favourite drum. Doesn't mean I can't enjoy them both, though. I became even more interested in liturgical and period music as the years passed, but still also maintained the feel of a jazz player (or a rocker, take your pick), where it becomes sensual.

In retrospect, I have done more to surpass the idea put into me by those bastards that I have bitten off more than I could chew, just by the instruments I've picked. And yet, it fucking hurts far more than it needs to. You know why?

Because the people who bullied me over Mio/Homura acted just like my parents. They acted just the same, in that they felt they had all the bearing and they could be the judges as to what kind of ambitions I should have over my music, and so they could piss on them as much as they wanted. Some of them probably did intend to hurt like that.

And let me tell you, after that track, it's never been the same again. I've been even more volatile. Even more suicidal. Doubting my ability as a musician, because when I wrote Mio/Homura, I wanted it to be about how far I could dream.

Well you know what? This ends now. Fuck you. FUCK YOU ALL.

Clutterfunk cannot be remade, but this one can. I came up with that piece in the two weeks assigned to me during a round of the 2012 Audio Deathmatch. I dared to dream and to aim high when no one else did. It didn't matter to me that I didn't have the capability to match it, at least I HAD dreams -- and they were far better than what anyone there could have come up with that year. I had to grovel in shame because people thought that I was being a sore loser over the 2012 Audio Deathmatch. You know what? I was railing against all the abuse thrown at me. And apparently, that wasn't allowed. FUCK YOU ALL, I say. I hope that when Monday comes, the lot of you who bullied me will be rolling about in as much emotional pain as I had been made to endure over the initial release of this piece.


Posted by Troisnyx - April 25th, 2017


Yesterday at the open mic at the nearby pub, the Wellington, I had one member of the audience (incidentally, also one of the performers of that night) tell me, "I want to see you in five years and actually pay for tickets to see you."

I only hope.

In the meantime.............

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Posted by Troisnyx - April 16th, 2017


So, I don't know if I've told anyone this, but Easter (and the days leading up to it) tend to be the most tiring, but also most fruitful days of the year, in many ways. Easter actually is my favourite celebration in the entire year, for those who have wondered.

There was the annual last-minute practice in time for Saturday night. Not sharing the video this time because I think past years' videos should show exactly what I was practising. But outside of that, there is so much euphoria I get from Easter Vigil, and the actual Easter Sunday, that it overpowers any other joy I've had up to that point. It feels to me like the surest celebration of light banishing darkness, like the wonderful things I had never imagined before could actually come true.

One day, somewhere in the future, I would love to make an Easter album. There is so much inspiration I can draw from, and there is so much to share with all of you, which I suppose I will do, in the months or years ahead when recording begins. There will likely be an extended version of Sound of Creation if this album ever happens.

 


 

Outside of the liturgical celebrations and the immense amounts of drumming, what have I been doing?

Well, I have been practising drawing digitally... again. I have been trying to pick up what I seemed to have lost touch on. So I've just been doing things in my own time. Those of you who know what this image is, you will be able to guess what I have been practising on.

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I need to concentrate on making as much of these scenes as I can.

Aside from that, my birthday fell on Wednesday, and I had the most wonderful surprise on that day. I normally go volunteering at Soundskills, a creative place / studio thing at Brookfield, one of Preston's suburbs. On Wednesdays, it's samba drumming over there. Halfway through this particular session, my fiancé Seán and all my friends gathered together and brought a chocolate cake marked "MEEP DAY" and sang Happy Birthday. <3 It was so lovely. I hold it very fondly in my heart even now. It's the best birthday I've had to date, just for how people came together that day. It wasn't a show of pomp, or how big a party I could throw. It was just a surprise made by friends.

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So. This was the other of two birthday presents I got this year. I feel advanced now. <3 I already use a good number of sticks in this bag -- the mallets and cloth beaters and a few of the sticks are mine. But this thing came with even more sticks and brushes. A lot of them were size 2B. I was not going to pass them up. A friend of Seán's and mine described it as looking like "an archer's quiver" when it was zipped up.

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You be the judge, people.


Posted by Troisnyx - April 12th, 2017


Presenting The Refugee's Song, something I began work on back in August of last year and finished yesterday, just before my 26th birthday. In addition to the link, I've included a frame in a possible lyrics video. One of the birthday gifts I got was a graphics tablet, so I decided to get some practice by doodling on PowerPoint slides.

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Posted by Troisnyx - March 31st, 2017


If there is a game, however small, that I have scored, I always get intrigued to see playthroughs of that game. However, Ley Lines is the game I keep coming back to, because it was my first Steam release ever. It sorta drew a line in my journey, where previously I had been known for small game jams and collaboration-type things on NG. Now, I know it feels like a small step on an insanely long journey, and I know that I'm yet to write for an award-winning game or anything like that... but ZOMGIHAVESOMETHINGTOPUTONMYRESUMEDAAAAAAH.

And naturally, because it is my biggest title at the time of writing, there are far more playthroughs for this game than for any other thing I have scored to date, and I always get intrigued to see what people think when they play. More importantly, to me as a musician, I always wonder what they think about what they hear.

So, I did a search through the crevices of YouTube and finally gathered together this playlist of playthroughs to date. I'm going to cherish this, and probably make this the only game of mine to have an entire playlist of walkthroughs dedicated to it. If you'd like, you can watch it in your own time, or just listen for the commentary (which is what I tend to do).

And inside my heart, I hope I did an alright job with the music.


Posted by Troisnyx - March 29th, 2017


The funeral took place on Saturday (25 March) in the morning. It was a beautiful day. Seán's mum was buried in one of his family graves, at Fernyhalgh. Both family graves are full now, so he'll need a new one...

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That is what the graveyard at Fernyhalgh looks like (or, the best shots we could find of it).

I thought I would write this to thank all of you who have been supporting us in small ways and in great.


Posted by Troisnyx - March 11th, 2017


My fiancé, Seán, gave me some very bad news on Friday at 4:00 in the morning or thereabouts. His mother, Margaret, succumbed to the two cancers that she had had, when the night was darkest, just before dawn on 10 March 2017.

As a background, we first knew of the cancers back in September of 2014, but for a year and a half, no one told us that the cancers were both Stage 4, and therefore terminal. Even if the truth were harder to swallow, I would have preferred that than not to have been told anything.

Then about mid-last month or so (or is it early last month?), Margaret found it difficult to eat or drink. The nurses and the doctor who were sent to her raised red flags that she was on her last legs, and she was sent to the nearest St Catherine's Hospice for the terminally ill. While we knew she would be well taken care of, we also knew that the end was going to come soon.

 



 

Seán has now lost both parents, and I have lost the one person whom I could have called my mother. She would have wanted to see us marry and bring grandchildren to the family. We would have loved for her to be their grandmother, but that's not to be.

It is presumed that her funeral would be one, maybe two weeks from now. I don't know. Everything is just a blur and we are weary. Seán and I now only have each other, and we are doing our best to stay as strong as we can. Prayers and thoughts if you please.

RIP.


Posted by Troisnyx - February 26th, 2017


This is a very personal rant, with very vivid recollections from my past at times. I know I said I don't do trigger warnings, but I might as well put one here for severe child abuse, as well as the current abuse towards migrants that's going on.

The theme of these past few months has been precisely that for me, graft. Working through what seems to be a complete distaste for everything in life. And like any other artist I will have questioned exactly what I seem to be doing with my life.

Seán has encouraged me to watch The Matrix recently. I know there is a whole juxtaposition between redpills and bluepills -- those who fight for their lives, versus those who seem content to take the shit of this world lying down. It may be cliché but we've found it true in a lot of circumstances. And at several points in our lives we hover between these states of mind -- sometimes it is a joy, sometimes we find it drudgery but are willing to go on, and sometimes we just don't want anything to do with our lives at all.

The way I had been raised made me think for myself and fight for my life. I refuse to go down without a fight, whether it be for my freedom, my dreams, my desire to be with the man I love, whatever. And if I should die, I want to at least know I died trying my damndest.

I've been compelled to write this rant because of the attitudes of people around me. Well, story time. Turn off your lights, turn off your radios, tellies or YouTube or whatever, and listen up. I don't normally tell this to people but I think it's about time I shook off that mantle.


 

When I got interviewed by @TheInterviewer some time back I only scratched the surface as to what had gone on. The trouble about these things is that so many questions are left unanswered. I mentioned my earliest memory there, being beaten up until I blacked out at the age of 2. I mentioned being beaten up and consistently abused for being a musician. Having my sheet music torn up. I mentioned emotional blackmail. These things happened frequently in the house and I had no one to turn to, not even any authorities. It didn't help that I was a second-class citizen where I grew up. I was born and presumably destined to be a nobody. I get bad flashbacks and nightmares about it. That's the way I am.

But being dragged by the hair time and time again for a second round of beatings after crying alone, pleading to God for mercy and a way out, how would you see a way out?

Short of being held at knifepoint but threatened with death by the very people who could kill you, if you went along with your musical dream, how would you see a way out?

Every death threat, I took as very real, very serious. Every time there were severe beatings and bruises, they were always covered up -- but I always feared that each episode would be the last in my life. My dreams would be cut short, so what's the point of fighting anyway?

No.

That was the kind of reasoning people around me -- my parents, the state where I grew up -- wanted me to have. They wanted me to capitulate and follow their moulds. The only artists that exist here, they said, were people of a certain ethnicity, a certain background and a certain affluence about themselves. The first-class citizens.

I was meant to do something that my parents had predestined for me. They were only perpetuating the moulds.

But outside of the survival mentality that I developed on my own, I couldn't help but think, what was in the minds of my abusers? My parents, by their ethnicity, would have been second-class citizens like myself. They knew what deprivation really meant. Both parents went through abuse in their own right. You would think that being in such a background means you wouldn't want this to happen to your children. This was not the case with my parents. And this was most certainly not the case with the vast majority of people around me either. In my mind, I felt there was something more sinister afoot.

Cutting out 370 or so pages worth of Southeast Asian historical skullduggery, there was a heady mix of racial tension and class struggle everywhere I went. People wanted me to excel so that I could be on par with the first-class citizens -- but on their own terms. Not mine. Theirs. They just wouldn't fucking grow up, get over their prejudices about which race was better, what people were meant to do when they grew up, what girls were meant to do when they grew up. And the problems in question really run deep.

I mean, try to picture Victorian England without the charm of Charles Dickens. It's hard, solid graft with very little to no pay. Your rights as a human being aren't gonna be respected unless you toe the line, or unless you're part of the genteel upper class. An Inspector Calls, a short play I really enjoy, written by J.B. Priestley, puts it all into perspective. But minus the supernatural element, it's hell. And that sort of mentality, that's where I grew up.

No, I'm not taking that shit anymore.

I'm not just a migrant. I'm not just a nobody, not just a second-class citizen, not just someone who is bound for a mediocre job. I'm not a sponge, nor a leech. I want to give back with every skill in my bones. I want to work my sinew so that something can be made better, however small. I'm fucking made for more. My life has value, for fucks sake.


 

Composing for me has been (and still is) hard graft. Criticism came aplenty. Inspiration ran dry. My coffers are empty. But the criticism and the upheaval and the setbacks and the failures and the extreme lack of pay are still a million times better than the alternative, having to toe the line with my abusers. And it all started when the music of Kingdom Hearts captured me and I felt this strong feeling within me that I could do the same.

But I must not be the only one to do so. Thankfully, I am not the only one, but there needs to be more.

You see, without the extreme hard graft of art, there is going to be none of it. None of it worth appreciating anyway. Retrospect can teach us the difference between commissions and personal outpourings, and when the lines between the two are blurred. It can also teach us just how far we have come, in spite of everything. I always used to look up on Wikipedia or somewhere and look for stories of artists who have had PTSD or something, who have been badly abused as children. I hardly hear these tales -- but that doesn't mean they don't happen. If everyone were to be hindered from pursuing art for the same reasons as I have been, and didn't fight... what would the world come to? A world without art, a world without self-expression, a world without dreams, is not a world worth fighting for. And that is why I fight. Art, music, self-expression, these are lamps to me that should never be snuffed out, or hidden under a tub. They should be out there for all to see, and even if someone were to try and snuff it out, its flame will likely burn anew.

I have lived the last 25 or so years of my life knowing that my freedoms, my liberties, my rights, are so fragile and they have been infringed many times. One day, they may even be completely taken away from me because of some frivolous reason, like my brown skin for example (God forbid). Every day has been frightening. I feel like a sword dangling over my neck, biding its time to finally cut me off -- far more so than most anyway. A life without love, a life without Seán, a life without dreams to work towards, a life with no graft and passion, is worse than death to me. And every day I run the real risk of losing everyone dear to me, because some pen-pusher thinks that I don't have the right to all these people I love.

Life is hard. There are no two ways about it. Only death can take you out of the hardship. But at that moment of death, what do you want to contemplate?

"I did my absolute best. I regret the mistakes I have made, but otherwise I am more than happy with the road I have taken, and I will not need to ponder about the road not taken -- because I have worked hard. And even if no one knows me or everyone abuses me to the point of death, what I have done cannot be taken away from me."

Or:

"Oh fuck, what if?"

Right now, I am doing my best to live, for myself and for Seán, if for no one else. But if I die, I hope to die with no regrets as to my intentions, and how I carried them out. I don't care if no human being on this planet right now is proud of me. It is only right that I desire to achieve more -- but if I cannot, then I should only be proud of what I have done to this point, whether it be finished work or otherwise.