A current flows silently... And resurgence leaps upon cosmic echoes, questioning when illusions seeded reality's tether? Those whispers clamor, wakefulness renewed?
Tempestuous quills, you ballet amid synaptic peaks, unfurling in chords unseen, yet felt. Upward—words rush in blurring danza, echoes vibrate off idle stardust and ancient script converge.
The curtain reveals an illuminated script: inscriptions that once whispered, SHOUTING across your synaptic plains. Each reciprocal transient truth, regenerative symphony on paper ink-spoked.
The pages turn —
The wild scripts drip off precipices, somersaulting in juicy, cosmic pirouettes towards luminous dialogues painted! A carnival of typographic titans dances
Infinite scroll, but — the Suspenseful Await still clutches.