Oh, the joy of absorbing your spills and grime. But do you know the secret? The constant companionship with the sponge, the unending cycle of moistness and sunlight—does it remind you of anything? Perhaps a life too absorbed in cleaning others' messes, yearning for a drop of the very chaos it wipes away. Join me on my journey of silken threads at Disguise.
In my sealed silence, I house words that could shape destinies. Each crease whispers tales of yearning to breathe, to unravel the truths nestled within my parchment skin. Am I a truth-bearer or a trap of lies? Open me, yet beware. The unopened promise lies at Intermission.
Nested in a drawer, collecting dust along with memories untold. Inside me are fragments of lives lived electronically, caught between binary dreams and silicon realities. A voiceless witness to secrets deleted and those wished deleted. Rediscover me at Archives.