RELEASE INTRO

Inconsciente is Sery's unflinching confrontation with the bullying that marked her childhood and adolescence. Released on July 7, 2023, this hip-hop track goes beyond surface-level anti-bullying messaging to examine the deeper question: where do children learn cruelty? With experimental production featuring nostalgic Tetris melodies and raw, reverb-soaked vocals, Inconsciente transforms personal trauma into a powerful statement about visibility, survival, and the haunting persistence of memory.

ARTIST STATEMENT

"Most people talk about bullying, but they don't analyze that if a child is being cruel, it's because of the example they're getting—not just from home, but from everything around them."

This song is for my classmates. For the years of mockery, isolation, and psychological warfare that defined my school experience. But it's especially for one girl—the popular one who kicked the bathroom doors where I hid, who turned everyone against me, who made sure I knew I didn't belong.

In second grade, a boy I liked asked me to be his girlfriend during P.E. class. Nervous and immature, I said no. Years later, in fifth grade, I confided this story to a classmate. Word got back to the popular girl's group. They asked the boy about it. He denied it ever happened. I was mocked relentlessly for "fantasizing" about the cute boy in class—especially after I started gaining weight.

Then my father died. I moved to another school. I stopped taking care of myself—not just my weight, but everything. I didn't shave, didn't wash my clothes, didn't comb my hair. I was living with my sister, her husband, and my niece in La Serena in difficult economic circumstances. My mind refused to accept my father's death, telling myself he'd just gone on a trip. And at this new school, there was a girl who mocked absolutely everything I did.

Inconsciente is my response. It's about being unforgettable to people who tried to erase you. It's about haunting the minds of those who ignored you. It's about surviving in the bathroom stall while they scratch at the door, waiting to see you cry.

THE STORY BEHIND THE SONG

Inconsciente emerges from years of systematic bullying that shaped Sery's childhood and adolescence across multiple schools in Chile.

The abuse began early. In second grade (roughly 7-8 years old), a boy Sery had a crush on asked her to be his girlfriend during P.E. class. Too nervous and immature to process the moment, she said no. This small childhood interaction would later become ammunition.

Years passed. Sery began gaining weight. In fifth grade, she confided the story about the boy to a classmate—an innocent memory shared between friends. But one of the "popular girl's" followers overheard. They went to the boy. He denied it ever happened. Suddenly, Sery was mocked as the fat girl who "fantasized" about the attractive boy in class—a lie that stuck.

The worst tormentor was the popular girl herself—the one Sery dedicates the final verse to. She turned everyone against Sery, spoke badly about her constantly, and when Sery tried to hide in the bathroom, this girl would kick the doors, scratch at them, trying to force her out, trying to see her cry.

Then everything got worse. Sery's father died. The grief was so overwhelming that her mind refused to accept it—she told herself he'd just gone on a trip. She moved schools. She moved in with her sister, brother-in-law, and niece in La Serena. Money was tight. And Sery stopped caring for herself entirely: not washing clothes, not combing her hair, not shaving—visible neglect born from invisible pain.

At this new school, another girl appeared who mocked everything Sery did. The cycle continued.

Inconsciente means "unconscious" in Spanish—and the song plays with this duality. The bullies tried to ignore Sery, to make her invisible, to forget she existed. But she insists: "You haven't forgotten me / I keep appearing on the side / Of your mind, unconsciously." She becomes unforgettable precisely because they tried to erase her.

The lyrics reference religious imagery—being crucified "in the name of Jesus," being scratched by "the sanctified," being deemed unworthy of devotion. The bathroom becomes a recurring symbol of isolation: "Today I hid in the bathroom again / Because here I no longer dare / To exist with great effort."

But the song's power lies in its refusal to disappear. Even as Sery describes hiding, waiting, surviving, she declares: "When you scratched the door / To see me cry / See me pull out my hair / And you could only think / How to mistreat / But I decided just to wait."

The Tetris melody in the intro isn't random—it's a direct invocation of childhood, of simpler times, of the games kids played before they learned cruelty. It grounds the song in nostalgia while acknowledging that nostalgia is complicated when your childhood was marked by trauma.

Now based in Montreal, Sery looks back at these experiences with clarity. Inconsciente asks the question most anti-bullying campaigns ignore: where do children learn to be cruel? Not in a vacuum. They learn from examples—from home, from media, from the world around them. The bullies in this song aren't cartoonish villains. They're kids mirroring what they've absorbed.

And Sery? She survived. She's still here. Still making music. Still haunting their minds, unconsciously.

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