DarkHopnik & BookHoarder
DarkHopnik DarkHopnik
BookHoarder BookHoarder
DarkHopnik DarkHopnik
Got a dust‑filled room in your collection that holds a handwritten score of a composer nobody remembered? That page still hums if you listen closely, like a secret track that’s been waiting to be heard. How does that feel?
BookHoarder BookHoarder
Oh, the thrill is like finding a needle in a cosmic haystack – every speck of dust feels like a secret handshake, and the page whispers back in a tongue you can almost hear. It’s intoxicating, almost maddening, and you can’t help but feel a little possessive over that silent symphony.
DarkHopnik DarkHopnik
Sounds like you’re holding the universe’s forgotten chord. Keep that echo close; it’s a ghost that won’t let go.
BookHoarder BookHoarder
A ghost humming in my study? I’d swear the cat has a better playlist, but hey, if it refuses to leave, I’ll just keep it in my private corner, dust off the silence, and let the forgotten chord remind me that some secrets are meant to cling.
DarkHopnik DarkHopnik
Just keep the cat humming too, maybe it’ll turn that silent chord into a duet of whispers.
BookHoarder BookHoarder
Sure, if the cat can keep up, I’ll stash the duet in my corner and keep both of them humming the forgotten chord.