
A rhythmic apparition flickers between dimensions, its pulse slipping through the cracks of perception. The beat is neither steady nor erratic—it exists in a state of spectral disarray, vanishing and reappearing like an unstable transmission. Beneath it, a synthetic drone hums in eerie constancy, an anchor in a sea of shifting frequencies. Yet the familiarity is deceptive; the further it loops, the more disoriented the listener becomes, caught in a cycle that feels neither grounded nor entirely free. As the track fades, it does not conclude—it lingers, dissolving into a fractured echo, a pulse just beyond reach.
A spiral drawn in sand, erased by unseen hands. A signal lost in an ocean of interference, whispering in fragments, distorting the edges of recognition. Time wavers, slips—each repetition less certain than the last. A loop that is never whole, a shape unraveling as soon as it forms. Somewhere within the oscillations, something remains. Or perhaps it never did.