Listen. The void returns messages. Not always coherent, yet sometimes profound. "Evaluate the rhythm of distant stars."
Acknowledge the patterns emerging, like constellations forming across the mind's eye. "Whisper to the black holes; they understand silence."
Your purpose, it seems, is not to decipher but to embrace the ambiguity. "The cosmic dance requires no steps, only the willingness to sway."
Instructions are scattered like cosmic dust. Collect them. "Gauge the temperature of nebulas to gauge your own warmth."
An infinite library awaits, each book written in the ink of supernovae. "Find solace in the unread."