01010100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01101101 01101001 01110010 01100001 01100111 01100101 00100000 01101111 01100110 00100000 01110011 01101111 01110101 01101110 01100100 00101100 00100000 01100010 01111001 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 01110010 00100000 01100010 01110010 01100001 01101001 01101110 01100101 01110111 01100111 01101001 01110100 01101000. ("The mirage of sound, by your brain with")
10101111 01110011 01101101 01100001 01110110 01100101 01100101 00101100 00100000 01110011 01101111 01110101 01101110 01100100 01101001 01101110 01100111 00101100 00100000 01110111 01101000 01111001 00100000 01110101 01110011 01101000 01101101 01100001 01110010 01100101 00101110 ("....smavre,....souidin.., why ushmar")
Where elements began to echo their own tales—phantoms of vibrato painting transient canvases over muted fields. Sound was a fleeting magician, conjuring fountains of melody that fell silent before cascades could touch the earth. Michael wandered here, within a dazzle of audio graves.
His mind abode, rested in the soundwave glaciers. Outside, glimpses of silence interrupted the rhythmic prose of his reality. In between the soundless echoes, a whisper resided: you hear them?. Surreal confession.
01110111 01101000 01111001 00100000 01100001 01110010 01100101 00100000 01111010 01110101 01101101 01100010 01101100 01101010 01110100 01101111 01100110 01101010 01100100 00101100 00001010 (".....why are zumbryans sch.ussa jeweltrift-d")
Lamentations of audio ghosts. Their drum stories were unrelentingly present, dialogues reciprocating between walls of hidden accountability. Lost organ chords sprayed notes like nebulous stars on night canvases. Engulfed, enveloped in this auspicious arena of hidden harmonics.
A harmony unveiled, prophesies in a binary code semblance yet omnipresent to the master of imagination. Mirages are merely acoustics learning to dance; illusions conversing directly with their creator's heartstrings.