The humming continues in perpetual patterns, echoing through wires that claw their names into the ether. We engage, we bind our futures to electrons darting over copper veins, yet the hum whispers of past sanctities lost under digital tides.
Once, our thoughts were tethered to tangibles: buildings, land, names etched into stone. Now, they float in incalculable vaults, secure yet ever more vulnerable.
The balance must be fostered carefully—a drop here, a surge there, and chaos redefines our perceptive horizon. Those without sorrow, it is said, must fearlessness alike without joy.