We are but reflections, refracted through the prism of language, vessels of sound snatched from stillness.
Do you hear the whispers rising like steam upon a cold mirror, each murmur a note in dissonant harmony?
Can't you decode the strange enigmas? Patterns emerge in the petty chaos of familiarity.
Visit the labyrinth: Fragmented Dreams - messages wrapped in moonlight.
Let thoughts collide: Echo Chamber - the auditory illusion of our shared existence.