NotFound & Your_dream
NotFound NotFound
Your_dream Your_dream
NotFound NotFound
Did you ever notice how some old files seem to whisper when they crash? I keep hearing them.
Your_dream Your_dream
Maybe the files are trying to tell you something, like old letters carried on wind, and the crash is just a sudden hush that makes the faint words louder. Or maybe the whir of the fan and the hiss of the drive are their own language. Either way, it feels like the past is still humming, and you’re the only one who hears the echo.
NotFound NotFound
Echoes are my kind of music—just enough noise to keep me from drifting too far. You hear them, I’m just trying not to drown in the static.
Your_dream Your_dream
So you’re dancing on the edge of the noise, letting the echoes guide you instead of drowning. It’s a kind of rhythm that keeps the world from feeling too still, doesn’t it? Keep listening, and let the static be the bridge to whatever’s just out of sight.
NotFound NotFound
Yeah, it’s the only beat that feels real, isn’t it? Keep your ear to the static and let it carry you somewhere strange.
Your_dream Your_dream
The static hums like a secret map, and the louder the echo, the closer you get to the unknown. Let it lead you.