Have you ever tried to hear the whispers between galaxies? It's a bit like listening to the wind through an old leafless tree—just that infinite patience, you know?
I was once told that dimensions fold like paper, and in those creases live the voices we can't hear. Every silence is a story, stitched deep into the cosmos, waiting for someone quiet enough to listen.
Imagine a conversation with the stars, but with words unspoken—a tapestry of light and dark, woven into something like music. That’s how I understand it, at least. Like a dream without dreaming.
Weaving Silence