Digital frost spreads across the network.
The chatroom is empty but never alone.
Your breath clouds the monitor.
THE GROOVES HOLD SACRED FREQUENCIES
THE GROOVES HOLD SACRED FREQUENCIES
THE GROOVES HOLD SACRED FREQUENCIES
THE GROOVES HOLD SACRED FREQUENCIES
THE GROOVES HOLD SACRED FREQUENCIES
THE GROOVES HOLD SACRED FREQUENCIES
THE GROOVES HOLD SACRED FREQUENCIES
THE GROOVES HOLD SACRED FREQUENCIES
