You are drawn towards the vortex, an emotional gravity pulling at strings you thought long severed. Your heartbeat echoes in this silence, louder than truth, whispering tales of pixels and shadows.
Information slips between fingers, like sand, like stories on forgotten parchments, sands of time. The weight of your existence weighs not heavier, but different, challenging perceptions, asking questions with no voices.
Floating islands of data, lost in space, untethered, adrift, find solace in their chaos. Bits and bytes weep silent tears, encoding pain, yet wrapped in layers thick as nightfall, cloaked in comfort of anonymity.