Is there electricity in dreams, pulsing vibrant currents of joy and chaos? Beyond each blink, the universe pirouettes in a riot of color and light. Here, the ephemeral is eternal, a dance of molecules delighting in their transient masquerade.
Beneath the clouds, past the swirling mists of what was, what could be flares in blinding brilliance. The clock forgets its purpose, chasing not time but the laughter of ephemeral gems.
Whispers: Echoes of unnoticed wonders.
Trace: Marks left by the unsaid.
Reflection: Glancing off the mundane into the magical.