They are the inner voices, the spirits that animate, the ghosts crawling behind closed eyes. They have always been there, originate from deep down and come and go with the tides of emotions; They whisper through the electronic waves; doorway for unspoken words quietly waiting to be born. They closely watched the wind amplifying its howl through the crack of a door, the vehemence of the waterfall when it hits the stone, the vociferous statement of a mountain in its avalanche. They learnt and chose to replicate running through the wires of machines. Spirits do dream, and this is a translation of their dreams. From the soothing ones, to the nightmares, to the incomprehensible impressions of a world obeying different sonic laws.