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|| HOME || JOURNAL || THRUSTER || ABOUT || CONTACT || s1n-LMBR/457.bat :3 / "the space between the clouds." / BACK somewhere, a room hums with old light, soft-buzzed, moth-dizzy, a heartbeat licking the walls, (but maybe that’s just me) the night is all static and silver-threaded hands, touching without touching, unspooling across a sky that never quite answers - how far is far when the thread still pulls?