Your data is like looping jazz—always there, unseen, orchestrated by the dealers of light.
Collect moments, not likes. Identity is a rotating door—step in or step out.
Sift through this cacophony:
Every click, every sigh—you are nothing but a ghost in the machine.
Find solace in the irony of dehumanized connection. It is the zeitgeist of our times, isn't it?
Awake, abide, browse—repeat. Dream deferred, click resolved.
Check your pulse: Is it green?
A call goes unanswered—the numbers don’t lie, but they can’t sing.