“The stream of thought flows on; but most of its segments fall into the bottomless abyss of oblivion. Of some, no memory survives the instant of their passage. Of others, it is confined to a few moments, hours or days. Others, again, leave vestiges which are indestructible, and by means of which they may be […]
One of the monolith’s finer tunes.
Every six centuries, sentience stirs, finding a new oracle through which it projects and reflects. Like those unknown transmissions sent from the depths of our consciousness, a certain cognitive fidelity becomes lost in the space between origination and articulation. From this rift we derive anxiety, fear, and dissolution. This is the realm of poetry, prophecy and Daniel Higgs.