click here to evade the connection: solace.
it's nice to see you. across the distance and through the glass. i miss you. sing your grief to me. come home.
| you sing me your grief: | someone listens. | when i am gone, | you seek for me. | one day | you will be found. |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| through key-press and wire, just the same as you listen to my own. a page filled. another. a scroll down, down. eyes bloodshot from this pain. | ten years down, a search-crawl, automatic loneliness, an empty night, a thousand miles' distance. lights all blinking in the dark. receiving, listening. sing your grief. someone will find it. | the dark glass looks back into you and sees patterns you cannot know. you look into it and see your face. maybe you summon back the blinking blue-light empty world to consume you. you fall into it. | or for the darkened glass of anyone who will listen. who will find you, and hear. you sing your grief in wires and light. you are connected, carried, archived by pain. | i will find your ghost there and learn to know it, just as you know mine. across the distance and through strange hollows of time, i will know you also. | and when you are found, you will not know it, and maybe you will never see the traces of another ghost brushing the formatted edges of your own. but you will be found. |
do you want to go home?