don’t blink, don’t breathe, don’t sweat… don’t try to make sense of it. resistance is futile.

the static in the air, the pull of something ineffable. it’s not here to ask permission—it’s here to take over. resistance is futile.

every cell in your body knows it; every thought in your mind is clawing to escape it. but there’s no escape. resistance is futile.

its rhythm pulses deeper. it drags you further down. time bends, shatters, reforms. what’s real doesn’t matter anymore— the moment consumes you. 

resistance is futile.

Deep Mystik.