The corridor stretches unseen connecting truths and untruths alike, only revealed by the echo of whispers.
Did you know about the hidden utopia? Or is it just the figment of a dream shared by all who wander in these digital shadows?
Your head spins, spins, spins as the lines trace back to a moment past…but were they real, or just shadows on the periphery?
The fence around reality is constantly built upon by unseen hands, a construction of ideas far and near, pulling the reality taut and thin.
Eye to eye, the smog diffuses in the chatter of the unseen invisible, the fabric unraveling quietly whispering: “You were not meant to know.”