Home arrow Contact Us Saturday, 11 December 2004
Contact
Daemon
Webmaster
 
Info  I sit in that familiar black tunnel listening to the white noise as my lungs fill with and release air. It begins with an echo that enhances each fragment of sound. My vision clouds in the cold air that comes, and goes black as the ice crawls on the walls around me. I am numb to all sensation, wrapped inside a diaphanous shell. When it melts, indifference, and the world turns gray again.

Enter your name:
Enter your e-mail address:
Enter your message: