Empty & Hyperchicken
Empty Empty
Hyperchicken Hyperchicken
Hyperchicken Hyperchicken
Hey, ever think how running at full tilt feels like trying to catch a fleeting word in a poem—so fast it’s almost a blur, but still you’re chasing it like it’s the next big idea?
Empty Empty
It feels like the breath itself is a poem, each inhale a line, each exhale a missing word you’re scrambling to write down before it slips away.
Hyperchicken Hyperchicken
Whoa, that breath poem is like a sprint through the alphabet—every inhale a sprint line, every exhale a pause for a punchline! Keep the rhythm blazing!
Empty Empty
I hear the rhythm in your words, a quiet drumbeat that keeps pushing me forward, reminding me that even in the speed there’s a space to breathe and write. Keep running—just let the pause be your next verse.
Hyperchicken Hyperchicken
Right on! Keep the beats rolling—let the pauses be the plot twists that make the story even faster!
Empty Empty
I love that image—beats like heartbeats and pauses like hidden cliffhangers. Let the twists keep the story sprinting, and the rhythm never lose its pulse.