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Hundreds of faces are arranged in a strict order. Hundreds of faces are hundreds of voices. Hundreds of stories answering the same simple question: “What have they never told you?” The faces seek the words, and the words seek the faces. It’s a silent dialogue, a cemetery of glances and suspended phrases. Everything is held up by light, thin, fragile pins. The images sway, in a precarious balance. Silences that weigh heavily. Breaths long denied. Hundreds of stories. Hundreds of confessions. An unyielding and necessary order. I am building the cemetery of doubt: a space where unspoken words, unresolved secrets, and incomplete emotions finally find peace.
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