Yunasak Music — Still Hiding Inside You
A teenage music lover with a collection of 16,000 tracks — now she's making the nostalgia instead of collecting it.

A collection before a catalog
Before Yunasak made a single track, she was a hoarder of them. Back in her teens, on the old social platforms where you could stack songs onto your profile, she built a library of 16,000 tracks. Sixteen thousand. Different styles, different moods, all of them chosen because they hit something in her.
She still remembers what those songs did. The nostalgia. The specific emotions tied to a specific time. That's not casual fandom — that's someone who treats music like a memory bank.
And that's the whole reason she's here now. Yunasak isn't trying to go viral. She's chasing one very particular feeling: she wants her own tracks to one day live in someone else's memory the way those special songs live in hers.
What "Carefree Childhood" is actually about
The song that anchors this feature is Carefree Childhood, and Yunasak is upfront about where it came from. She made it in a stretch of nostalgia — that pull backward toward when things were simple.
Her words: "Childhood times are carefree, easy, and sometimes even in adulthood you want to be a child, because a little self is hiding inside each of us."
That's the thesis for basically everything she does. Atmospheric tracks built to turn deep inner stuff into something you can feel. She wants adults — the tired, the grown-up, the ones who forgot — to press play and get that warm ache of remembering back when nobody was counting on them.
It's a modest goal on paper. In practice it's one of the hardest things a piece of music can do.
The AI question, handled straight
Here's where Yunasak keeps it 100 instead of hiding it: she doesn't play instruments. She builds her tracks using AI. For her it's not a shortcut — it's the door. It's the tool that lets someone who's carried music her whole life finally put something of her own into the world. Emotional, creative, or just relaxing. Her call, her vision, her emotions steering it.
You can argue about the tool all day. What's harder to argue with is the intent behind it. This is someone who genuinely loves this stuff pouring a real feeling — her nostalgia, her inner kid — into a track and hoping it lands on you the same way.
The part every independent artist knows
Ask her what's been hardest and she doesn't dress it up:
> "The hardest part for me to keep going is the low listening numbers and it feels like it's all for nothing."
If you're reading this and you make music, you just felt that in your chest. The quiet plays. The wondering if anyone's out there. The temptation to call it.
And her answer to herself is the whole reason we're writing about her:
> "I keep telling myself that everything is ahead. The main thing is that I make music that I love, and over time people may also appear who will share my preferences."
That's it. Make the thing you love, protect the reason you started, trust that your people are out there and just haven't found you yet. It's not a growth hack. It's just true.
What's next
Right now it's just the music. But Yunasak's got her eye on the next layer — videos for her tracks, so listeners don't only hear the atmosphere, they see it. She wants the full thing: the mood, the picture, the feeling all working together to pull you into whatever moment the song is holding.
So if you're someone who still catches yourself missing a version of you that had no bills and no clock, go find out if her stuff moves you. That's the exact person she made it for.
Follow Yunasak here:
Give the low numbers a reason to climb. Start with Carefree Childhood and see if it finds the kid still hiding in you.
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