Once upon a time, mobile phone signals couldn't even reach the depths of your soul. Now they are everywhere, even underneath the dust of your existential crisis.
Hover for irony, or perhaps not. For irony, like a taut string on a forgotten willow, awaits only the breeze.
"Grids of our own making. Lost in shadows, hidden beneath veils, watch them dance elsewhere," quoted the modern philosopher Anonymous Peasant.
The Barrier of Sound Here and Not Here Ghosts of Posts UntitledHere we hide the shadows, and there we reveal illumination that reveals nothing. Isn't it delightful?
A void under city lights—the winner of the annual appeal of emptiness competition.
Layers of Illusion Fleeting Silence The Department of Interior Emptiness