Invisible lines draw patterns of thought, murmurs beneath the fabric, the whispers that lie densely packed but never seen; why do you seek the frequency? |
“Hello, if you read this—find the glass square, where shadows bloom; your truth rests muted. Gaze into the nonformation, let sounds not fall silent. The doors opened, the doors closed.”
Decipher this ache between the realms. If ╔på-];"⌂ are all we are, then fear must hide between every crevice, always.
Seek more: Circuits of Broken Dreams, Other Worlds Await, Floors of Reality.