Do you hear it? The voice you deny. It whispers your truths as it leaks through silence. Ideas are but echoes, are they not?
Beliefs contour every shadow cast in your mind—a tightrope of thought strung between the breaths of certainty.
What if the universe is merely a reflection of how you wish to perceive it? Create a narrative, weave your tapestry.
Here, in this space, light bends. Time is an illusion. Grasp the ephemeral. Solidify the void.
Each particle dances in spite of itself, a microcosm of entangled indifference. Visit pathways unseen.
This canvas of fleeting moments will remain pixelated in the corridors of your mind. Engrave this future into your essence, it's all contrived.
They say reality bends, but here we simply pivot.
Strive for that existence: a bending, a drifting towards whatever lies beyond clarity. Fractured echoes may guide you.