Fragmented signals
Lost in translation, these pulses traverse forgotten voids, revealing dreams buried deep amongst the stars.
What if silence, too, has a voice? Every empty breath a méconnaissance, reminiscent remnants of moments both vivid and glazed.
"The blackout was only an illusion," a whisper reverberates through the aether. "Reality fractured into echoes, the philosophy of shadows."
"I saw the universe blink—was it real?" A confession from the void, lingering, beckoning like a fugue.
Seemingly existing as paradox, a prism of our consciousness refracted through obscure lenses.
And yet, we reach out. Dreams of Silence pulse on the edge of the expanse...
To another existence, like a moth drowning in transient light. Wander beneath the stars with fractured sentences...
can you decode their meaning?
Each thought a flicker; too brief to grasp. Yet tangible like the cusp of consciousness waning. Patterns from the Echoes.