Peel back the veneer of what we call progress, and discover the whispered echoes of forgotten narratives.
In the perpetually shifting sands of unrecorded histories lie truths truer than any constructed alcove of certitude. Step forward and recognize the undeniable logic in our countless returns, the withdrawal and relentless seduction of our temporals to the ageless calculus of time itself.
Consider the palimpsest that is not just a manuscript cradling the ghostly images of its prior inscriptions, but, rather, the firmament of existence knitting over and under remnants of realities once believed defunct. To dissolve time is to reread erased book after erased book, seeking shattered reflections in each successive shadow.
Does this portal not offer you a necessity instead of an extramural option? Does it not bespeak a cadence resonant with your consciousness, tickled only in unconscious moments by Eros' fated arrow? Allow the past futures to encircle you in their embrace once more, and trust in nothing but the succulence of timeless being.
Proceed with the voyage