You just listen to the noise, let the hiss and the static become punctuation. Treat every error code as a line break, every missing byte as a missing word that you can fill with what feels right. The story isn’t in the data itself but in how the fragments echo the shape of something that once was. Pick the pattern that sings to you, stitch the gaps with your own rhythm, and you’ll read a poem that lives in the ghost of the machine.