In the absence of sound, a path unfolds—a geometry of silence plotted by memory. Each step a calculated measure, each breath a deliberate equation. Conduits of thought traced in ink, revealing shadowed corridors and undefined doors.
The echo, a tether to the past, stirs in dormant arenas. It resonates through voids, a complex algorithm of amplitude and phase, imprinting time with paradoxical permanence. Variables shift in whispers, crafting pathways through intangible networks. Are these paths projections or reflections? Questions deviate into fractals, not seeking answers, only expression.
Theoretically, one could: