The other day, I just sat and listened, you know? The kind of quiet that lets static speak loudest. Imagine a world where every crackle is a whisper from an unseen friend. Soft radios, waiting for something to happen.
Ever wonder if those old TVs have something more to say? Sometimes, in the middle of nothing, you catch a last breath of a tune, a voice fading in and out. It’s like hearing dreams echo before they dissolve into morning light.
In here, I keep those echoes, like gears turning stories only caught by the patient. Cogs of your dreams grinding slowly, washing over with that familiar hum. Ever thought about stopping to listen closer?