Starry vacations on the moon, where the tides are whispering lullabies in reverse. Was it Tuesday or some cosmic holiday?
Electric tangerine dreams, like the sunset that never was, dancing in the Galaxy's carnival.
Sometimes, you walk on the stars, barefoot. The constellations leave footprints of silver dew.
The radio crackles with messages from beyond, urging you to remember the rhythm of forgotten galaxies.
Every doorway is a new adventure waiting to unfold, each one painted with the memories of celestial whispers.