In the beginning, there was frequency, and it buzzed incessantly, a chorus of oblivion. Pressure of prefixes, definitions, etymologies, trapped in loops of sound—static seeking purpose, seeking to unravel meaning from the unfathomable.

Chirp, hiss, crackle—a language of the void, whispering tales of the unexplained. Did you hear it? The echoes of forgotten syllables, the ricochet of ambiguous intentions. Prefixes stack upon each other, building nothingness into form.

In the garden of absurdity, the flowers speak in tongues, prefixes that lead nowhere. Prefixing prefixes, suffixing suffixes, the cycle of linguistic dreamscapes. Let it unfold, unravel, decode the noise.

Suffix of Secrets Confluence of Chaos Whisper of the Machine