The static of the radio, the eternal white noise cradle, humming beside the universe's ear.
I need to hum back, a lullaby composed in solitude, the symphony of silence speaks louder than wordless thoughts.
I need to hum back, a lullaby composed in solitude, the symphony of silence speaks louder than wordless thoughts.
Beyond the static lies a theory. An acceptance of dissonance, a dance of distant galaxies, twinkling in static rhythm. You listen, but not with ears, with the intuition of an ancestoral echo, carved in bone and ancestral memory.
Harmony within the cacophony, the heartbeats of cosmic drums, synchronized in unsung melody. There is where time waltzes with space, in the ballroom of the dark matter.