In the folds of nebulous night, the whispers of stars, dimly pulsating memories untangle thoughts from the fabric of reality. Darkness is not empty; it hums. It syncopates with the breath of voids, resonating what was and what will never emerge...
Reverberations collide, weaving an astral tapestry where time loses shape, as constellations nestle amidst the tendrils of sound. Shall we listen to the trails left by supernovae? Will your mind drift through star fields?
Underneath this cosmic symphony, there lies a pulse, the very pulse of existence. Each wave a heartbeat, each tremor a longing, cascading through the fabric of infinity, binding matter to sensation... Are we waves, trembling in cosmic euphoria?