
gracie abrams
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
NASA

@theartofmadeline
art blog(derogatory)
One Nice Bug Per Day
noise dept.

#extradirty

tannertan36
official daine visual archive
$LAYYYTER
macklin celebrini has autism

No title available
The Bowery Presents
🪼
Claire Keane
taylor price

shark vs the universe
Mike Driver
No title available

seen from Poland
seen from Saudi Arabia

seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Paraguay

seen from Poland
seen from Paraguay
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Canada

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Singapore

seen from Germany

seen from United States
@terminal-g
tell cohen and leona to suck it
[Clearing cache...]
[Energy signature of [file.customname Samara 2.0] recognized. All alarms on standby.]
[...]
[Energy Signature Of [customname.text.Stinky Eli] sensed within 100 clicks of Terminal G. All warning protocols and new safety parameters on standby.]
Track: Corcovado (Quiet Nights of Quiet Stars)
Artists: Astrud Gilberto, Joao Gilberto, and Stan Getz
Album: Getz/Gilberto
“The saxophone is actually a translation of the human voice, in my conception. All you can do is play melody. No matter how complicated it gets, it’s still a melody.” | Stan Getz
—————-
http://enharmonickey.tumblr.com/
Music and Fashion. For classy-as-fuck individuals.
[With the terminal’s new and improved speaker system recently installed after the last internal damage fiasco, Lemon Demon’s TWO TRUCKS blasts at volumes unholy in the Rainforest Cafe. If anybody in the living world could hear anything on this side of the metaphorical mirror, it would definitely be in this moment, the electronic beeping and blooping that a waitress working her shift would assume to be a rude customer with their phone going off. Who would pick such a vulgar song for their ringtone she would think as she totes her tray of chicken tenders to a group of kids across the gaudy restaurant. Who would play something so vile. She doesn’t hear it though, thank God, but you’re left to assume that any being on the other side within a 5 mile radius could hear the jam about two American pickup trucks gettin’ it on.]
[The terminal hums despite ample activity around it, the land of the living oblivious to the crackle of the decrepit automated checkout-receipt-giver and children-placater, the bulky box sat on the end of the booth in the back “corner” of the rainforest cafe. They’re closing up for the night, and the machine seems to be malfunctioning despite no apparent scars on its hull. Or, it’s screen flashes blue red black blue blue only in the land of the dead. It’s 9:26 pm.]
We here at AFTR once again would like to commemorate your achievements with our TERMINAL program, specifically in the field of learning more about he who is messing with our government-funded and fragile technology. Your collecting of data thus far has been paramount. With your help, we will soon better both our programs themselves and the lives of those trapped in the supposed limbo we commune with via the programs.
Thanks. From all of us here at AFTR, and from those Beyond/After/Here/There, etc…
[REDACTED POST]
[Terminal online.]