Digital whispers rustle through the ether at twilight, fragments of data flaring like distant stars. Each one, a heartbeat suspended within the void, yearning for connection yet grasping at pixels.
“I log in only to log out again, time an illusion, void an embrace.”
The screen flickers; reality bites as binary patterns form illusions of permanence.
Unseen breaths.
Tethered souls drift into the pixelated haze in search of meaning.
Light and shadow dance, a rhythm lost amid the stream of endless scroll.
Pondering existence, navigate an absurd labyrinth.
Dream sequences unravel.
“Elusive echoes of a life half-lived”.
Is it too late to find meaning in a synthetic heartbeat?