Our words wrapped in somebody else's voice, letters leaning into the next, falling towards its unfound meaning. Careless and unattended, a voice dismembered from its mind; an anxious separation, like names whispered in sleep.
...
Just a voice, like wind passing through a ghost town, gently brushing against the neural circuitry of his mind; and memories, like branches extended and curling at the inner concave of his unconsciously surrendered dreams.
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Online storage for marginalized fragments of mental debris. Temporary dwelling for infant ideas and homeless thoughts.
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