Bootleg VHS

This last tape is singed, speckled with shinysmooth patches where its plastic has begun to melt. There’s no label, just a few scraps of lingering paper, disconnected letters stripped of all context.

The video starts immediately, with no explanation, its only context a steadily increasing timestamp blinking in a corner.

The tape is shit quality, footage full of splotches and distortions; whatever closed circuit system it was recorded on was obviously too close to the manifestation. There’s no sound.