Sounds of Stella Errans

Lunar Pulsar

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About

My soul is connected to the interface, the machine has become my complement, the electric circuits hold me in embrace, I feel a metamorphosis, something different.

It must be this drifting reality, maybe some kind of continuity of things, truth is :
I don’t know what’s happening to me but I’m standing here with broken wings.
Images, words and sounds, bombing my synapses with information, and I put up with ups and downs, my memory in saturation.

My space is turning into virtual reality, my feelings take shelter on a processor.
Where the sweetness of numbers duality give rhythm to the magnetic waltz of the computer; I’m escaping into this unreal world, deviant child of the interneted order, in the palm of a lunar whirl, I’m the star-travelling pretender.

Member since: 3 years