another dip into the wardrobe of the mind

a dip into the surreal

Lose yourself in the Surreal.

You are on the threshold of a dream… or perhaps a nightmare.

Poised between what you know and what you only suspect, standing at the narrow border where certainty begins to dissolve.

Do not adjust your radio.

There is nothing wrong with your receiver. The wavering you may detect is not interference — it is alignment. A subtle tuning, a careful merging of frequencies. Yours… and ours.

In this moment, the familiar world loosens its grip. The solid becomes uncertain. The ordinary slips its mask. What you are hearing is not merely sound, but an invitation — a signal reaching past habit and reason, synchronising with the quieter parts of your mind.

We control the transmission.

If we choose, we can bring it to a whisper… or raise it until it fills every corner of your thoughts. We can sharpen it to clarity, or blur it just enough for imagination to take over. For the duration of this broadcast, you may find that time behaves strangely, logic feels optional, and coincidence grows teeth.

You are not merely listening now.

You are participating.

Your reality is harmonising with another — one bounded only by imagination, populated by half-seen ideas, uneasy laughter, and questions best left unanswered.

So sit comfortably.

Close your eyes, if you dare.

Let the pictures form where sound alone must suffice.

You have crossed the threshold.

Welcome to this week’s show.

Come on in… it’s about to start.

Don’t worry.

It won’t hurt.

Much.

You are on the threshold of a dream — perhaps a nightmare.

Do not adjust your receiver. What you are hearing is no fault in the wiring, no stray signal lost in the ether. It is purposeful — aimed, and arriving precisely where it was meant to: inside you. You may feel a tingling at the back of your mind, a curious pressure behind the eyes. That is the sensation of two worlds drifting into alignment — yours… and ours.

Already, the edges of your reality loosen. Familiar walls thin. You are ceasing to be merely a listener and are becoming something far more curious — a participant in a broadcast that reaches beyond the comfortable boundaries of thought. You are entering a realm where imagination overrules certainty, where reason bends, and where the improbable walks openly.

We control the tone. We command the frequency. The sound you hear is not entertainment — it is an invitation, a guiding thread pulling you into the mysterious space between realities. As the transmission deepens, the uncanny may begin to feel familiar — as though you have stood at this crossroads before, though you cannot say when.

Do not resist. Let the signal seep in. With every word and every silence, we bind our world to yours, weaving a shared dream — or shared delusion — in which anything may happen, and nothing is quite what it seems.

Prepare yourself. The world you know is fading behind you. Ahead lies a domain of uncertainty, unease, and possibility — a journey of the mind from which you may return changed.

Come on in — it’s about to start. Don’t worry… it won’t hurt. Much.”

Somewhere between the ticking clock on your kitchen wall

and the quiet shiver that runs down your spine

when you realise you’ve forgotten something important…

there lies a narrow passageway.

A place without signposts or streetlamps,

where the familiar world grows thin

and the extraordinary leaks through the cracks

like light under a locked door.

If you follow that passageway — carefully,

soft-footed,

hoping it doesn’t notice you —

you’ll find yourself in a district not marked on any map:

an odd, echoing quarter where lost thoughts gather,

half-formed fears loiter in doorways,

and the impossible keeps strange company with the mundane.

Here, misplaced memories trade stories after closing time.

Aren’t you the one who left them behind?

They’ve been waiting.

Tonight, we invite you once more into this twilight of the mind —

a realm stitched together from imagination,

misdirection,

and whatever you brought with you that you didn’t mean to.

So take a breath.

Step lightly.

The ordinary world is behind you now,

and what lies ahead

has been expecting you.

Welcome…

to the space between.

Welcome back, To that peculiar corridor between dreams and nightmares. You know the one — where time hums like an open fridge, and yesterday’s thoughts gather like fog on a bathroom mirror.

You’ve arrived, though you never recall the journey. This isn’t memory. It’s the pause between knowing and guessing — where the familiar turns its face just slightly, and something in the corner tilts its head.

The clocks here tick sideways. Conversations unravel into thread. Someone wrote “help” in the dust on the vending machine… backwards.

You’ve been here before. You always come back.

There’s no door. No exit. Just the faint feeling you left something unfinished.

Your grip on reality is slipping , "They" are calling you, from, "the other side." your hold on this place here is light, and getting lighter.

And now the voices return. Half-remembered, echoing, stories that tap gently, then scratch harder. Not to frighten. Just to remind.

Remind you that your life may be real…

But this?

This is where it’s rewritten.

There is nothing wrong with your radio. Do not attempt to adjust the dial. We are in control of the signal. If we choose to amplify it, you will feel the vibration in your chest. If we decide to hush it, the whisper will settle just behind your thoughts. For the next hour, we guide what you hear, and through that, we steer what you imagine, what you sense, what you believe.

You are no longer tethered to ordinary soundwaves. This is not simply a broadcast—it is an invitation. You have tuned into a frequency that bypasses logic and reaches the parts of you that dream. What you are hearing is not just sound; it is a bridge, spanning the chasm between the world you know and something far stranger.

The transmission is adjusting now, aligning with your inner rhythm, matching your pulse beat for beat. Each tone you hear nudges you closer to a space where reality loosens its grip. Every whisper in the static pulls you deeper, where boundaries fade, and the lines between thought and sound dissolve completely.

There is no reason to resist. The signal is already within you. What you are hearing is not external—it is an echo of something buried deep, something long forgotten. Each hum and murmur guides you to a place where time bends, space folds, and imagination takes precedence over what you once called real.

This moment is no accident. You have crossed into a dimension where the impossible becomes tangible, where the unseen reveals itself, and where shadows learn to speak. We are tuning your mind now, sharpening your perception, blurring the edges of the known and the unknowable.

It’s all noise now. No silence anywhere. The city breathes—too close, too hot. Every sound overlaps, every hum sticks to my skin. I can taste it. The air tastes like metal and secrets.

They’re here. I can’t see them, but I feel the weight of their gaze pressing down on the back of my skull. The lights… they hum my name. Not out loud. Underneath. In the static. In the breath between words. They know I can hear them.

The shadows move wrong. They stretch too far, reach too high. I saw one crawl up a wall once—like smoke that decided it didn’t need gravity anymore. I looked away. I always look away. The trick is not to look too long, or they’ll know you’ve seen.

Step closer… just a little closer. You hear that sound? No, not outside—inside. Behind your eyes, beneath your skin, a hum you can’t quite place. That’s the threshold. Cross it, and you’re not in Kansas anymore. Not in Manchester either, not even in the year you thought it was. You’re entering a place where reality folds, bends, and sometimes tears. A place where nothing is real but everything is true.

Time doesn’t quite tick here—it shivers. Identities slip. Stories play like records that never quite stop spinning, even when the needle lifts. You might meet yourself in here, or someone who looks like you but doesn’t like you. You might hear whispers from corners you can’t see.

And here’s the catch—you’re no longer entirely in control. That’s the thrill, isn’t it? Once you’ve stepped through, you don’t get to choose what’s behind the curtain. We choose. The voices choose. The stories choose. And once they find you… once they fasten onto you… you might never get back.

Welcome… to tonight’s transmission. Leave the lights on if you must, but it won’t help. Not here. Not now