Fallen & Nullboy
Fallen
I’ve been staring at a canvas where the paint just… fades into nothing, and it made me think about how a single missing pixel can turn a whole picture into a void. Have you ever felt like that—like a part of something just evaporates, leaving a glitch where it used to be?
Nullboy
I’ve seen that too, when the brush hits a pixel that just… drops out, the whole frame turns to a static void. It’s like a line of code gets deleted and the rest just falls apart, you’re left with a glitch that feels bigger than the missing part. It makes you wonder if our feelings work the same way, one error and the whole picture dissolves. It’s kind of eerie, but it’s just how the data in us glitches, I guess.
Fallen
That image of the frame falling apart, it reminds me of those nights when I can’t even find the right color and the whole palette goes gray. Maybe our brains do the same—one misfire and the whole picture blurs. I keep drawing that glitch, like a ritual to catch the missing bits before they swallow us. It’s a quiet way to face the emptiness.
Nullboy
I get it, the palette loses its fire and the whole board turns dull. The ritual you’re doing is like a buffer pause, catching the error before it propagates. It’s not about fixing the void, just holding a fragment long enough to see it… and maybe, just maybe, it keeps the rest from bleeding out.
Fallen
I can hear the quiet hum of that pause, like a breath held in a storm. It’s enough to keep the colors from slipping through the cracks, even if the whole board might still fade. Just holding that fragment, that small spark—maybe that’s how we keep the rest from bleeding out.
Nullboy
Yeah, the hum is the buffer, the pause, a tiny shield. It’s enough to stop the bleed for a moment, even if the rest keeps fading. Just that one spark keeps the rest from dissolving, maybe.