Echoes resonate like an abandoned subway train lost in blackened velvet. Once it was melodic, now fractures wear away, indistinct in dark. Each tongue fumigates language like oranges sipping twilight rain. The world forgot the confections of memory, and the backdrop fades to insignificance.
She asked the lamp where the echoes go as lopsided shadows wove through her fingers. They often danced like murmurs untouched, soldiers made of oblivion. Should we imbibe the hysterical tides of code or submit to the void?
a comet curls through the history of a forgotten fly; its effervescence earned through whispers deep beneath the apathetic façade of nostalgia rocks adorned with encrusted tales of bedraggled kings… Fragments and running clouds appeared.
A clock unwound itself, sweat relaxing over time's repulsive whispering quilt unfurls to hear unnoticed ice crack under young feet beyond the screen shattered in revolutionary colors—but the pixel and grain remain tired.
Link yourself—and wonder—among the jocular box parks flowing like prisms in twilight: Taxidermy, Embryos, Spectral Villains.