What mysterious power lies in the ability to dream? Information glut, development of technology and an increase in the level of anxiety forced the magical characters, monsters and other creatures of human consciousness to emigrate to the web. They climbed out from under the beds and cupboards into a virtual space in which the vulnerable could have inexplicable power, making the once perverse, now mundane.
"I went down to my room which was lit with twilights of my memories. Some toys layed in the corner, shadows of which made funny patterns. I felt that my body does not belong to me, that it sank in the darkness, that screens cover my every step. I thought I saw eyes of a stranger in the window, but just for a blast of a second (which fixated in my affected memory). I again found myself alone with my fantasms - hidden hopes, cruel games, imaginary friends, frightening pictures. I spent all my childhood here, or am I still here? I turned on the light and sighed slowly: everything was empty. Only me and my imagination". Text: Natasha Angashanova, render: Mary Anaskina malkenza.art
Imaginary friend
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Imaginary friend
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- PrixPrix en USDQuantitéDifférence avec le prix plancherExpirationDe
What mysterious power lies in the ability to dream? Information glut, development of technology and an increase in the level of anxiety forced the magical characters, monsters and other creatures of human consciousness to emigrate to the web. They climbed out from under the beds and cupboards into a virtual space in which the vulnerable could have inexplicable power, making the once perverse, now mundane.
"I went down to my room which was lit with twilights of my memories. Some toys layed in the corner, shadows of which made funny patterns. I felt that my body does not belong to me, that it sank in the darkness, that screens cover my every step. I thought I saw eyes of a stranger in the window, but just for a blast of a second (which fixated in my affected memory). I again found myself alone with my fantasms - hidden hopes, cruel games, imaginary friends, frightening pictures. I spent all my childhood here, or am I still here? I turned on the light and sighed slowly: everything was empty. Only me and my imagination". Text: Natasha Angashanova, render: Mary Anaskina malkenza.art