You ever wake up and feel like you've stepped into a different lifetime? The sun peeking through the curtains feels less warm and more like a stranger's hand brushing past yours on a crowded train. Last night, you tell yourself, I was somewhere else—swimming in a sea of colored memories, each wave louder than the last. These dreams don't ask permission; they just take you by the hand and lead you down paths woven in delicate silence.
Somewhere below the skin, there are whispers left untold. You catch them on summer evenings when the light dims just so, flickering like an old analog sign. It's like watching home movies made from heartbeats and forgotten laughter. Perhaps that's where we go—to those whispers—when everything else falls away.