Endings as beginnings, and beginnings as endings.

New evidence has found its way onto my desk.

A photo of a room. A space long abandoned, long forgotten.

Something happened here that changed the world and kept it the same. Was Occlude played in this space, many years ago?

I find myself reflecting.

I've changed since throwing myself down this rabbit hole. Everything’s changed.

Ideas once banal and spaces once empty are now pregnant with [url=[dynamiclink href="https://youtu.be/"]]meaning\

and energy. Everything has intention, there are no mistakes.

I can say the same for myself. The more I learn about Occlude, the less I recognise the thoughts and spaces inside myself.

I stare into the mirror, but am no longer sure whose face looks back.

Something is happening. Others will soon find this game. Very soon. And I cannot protect them.

The world

is a broken machine.