An anechoic chamber is designed to absorb reflections and all sound. I wanted to hear myself clearly.

I didn’t expect this much of me to disappear. Dreams without images. A person trapped in an anechoic version of reality.

Waking without relief.

If no one hears you,

do you still mean what you say?

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

I miss how easy it was before we tried.

Draft saved three times. Never sent.

Glue fails under stress.

So do metaphors

Love is supposed to connect things.

This just highlights the cracks.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

These are the tales from the Caspian Sea

And If I follow the story far enough

I might finally reach you

But if I find you

Are you

what I need you

to be?

So nothing ever ends the same

Every tale has a different ending

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Identity isn’t discovered.

It’s negotiated.

List titled “Definitions”

• Love: alignment

• Freedom: absence of obligation

• Honesty: saying it out loud

Someone has written underneath:

Or avoided.

Ontology didn’t answer anything. It just made the questions louder.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

She recognised him immediately.

Not as someone she wanted — as someone who would complicate things.

Handwritten note on hotel stationer;-Don’t confuse intensity with intimacy.

Beneath it, added later:

• You always do.

Technical note

Conception does not require intent.

Only conditions.

A question mark added in pencil:

Did you create this —or did you just allow it?

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

The signal was never meant for anyone in particular.

That was the first mistake.

Three people, separated by distance and doubt, feel the same unease at the same moment — the sense that something has shifted.

Not forward.

Sideways.

Somewhere, a signal fails to arrive. Somewhere else, it is received too late.

Chapter 1: Transmission fragments, voice memos, fragmented conversations.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

He wasn’t looking for meaning. He wasn’t looking for connection. He wasn’t looking for trouble.

He was looking for fun.

And to him, fun meant possibility without consequence.

Photograph

(glossy, edges worn)

Three figures, motion-blurred. Arms raised. Faces indistinct.

On the back:

This is when it still felt like freedom.

Below, in darker ink:

Or when you started confusing attention with affection.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.