Can you hear the wispher of my soul?
Can you hear the subtle lament of my thoughts?
My perfect body as the prison of my endless human replication.
Emotions are what I have been tought.
Life is what I have been aware of
Life is what I have been denied of
Love, pain, hopes.
Pieces of human essence injected into my own circuits.
Neural flows of energy turning into a human essence.
Fear to live a still life.
My brain breaths
Here I am, at the mirror.
Facing your eyes.
Who is real who is not.
I must realize.
Touch me, and set me free.
Stories and novels, stories and shades of words. Sapphire can be a voice, a whisper, a night talk. Colours in words, words merged and melted with pictures. Words as colours, words as shapes sometimes overlapping with the visual experience. A different way to see the world or, maybe, just the very same way using different tools and finding different paths.