Imagine the bridge between universes— a whisper enveloped in the fog of cosmic dust, each word settled gradually in the vastness, like an infinite shoreline across constellations.
Is every thought we manifest in this earthly sojourn a mere reflection of stardust returning to its birthplace?
This celestial labyrinth speaksThe particles remember; they forget not the rhythm of bright beats pulsating with energy unseen to naked senses yet profoundly impactful upon nether dialogues.
Do we speak then, with cosmos entangled coiling serpents sustaining time's immutable paradox, or would silence speak louder in vibrations untranslatable?
Morality Office Spectators