Remember when quasar speculation was all the rage in the penultimate decade of analog?
When you opened a digital window only to find entropic comfort zones.
Satellite pondering over the fragmented networks of yesterday,
collecting pixels like a digitalist's diary left open mid-sentence.
Here, in the grid labyrinths, the infinity loops of market trends continue to echo,
refreshingly obsolete in their ironic rebellion against expected dd datasets.
The chaos—ah! a beautiful companion—teaches us irony in segmented databases
with each unallocatable byte we mourn.
Unmatched anomalies now rest quietly, tucked under coasters of forgotten
syncopation in quantum rhythms of nostalgic echo chambers.
Embrace the lost futurism — echoes are just unheeded applause from dimensions
we prefer to nostalgically neglect.