Do dreams end when we awake, or do they merely sever their ethereal umbilical cord, casting memories adrift, ephemeral, tangible yet sinister?
The dawn breaks not upon the land but within, splintering the nocturnal cocoon with silken shards of chaotic light. Have you wandered the abyss today, friend, in search of lost echoes?
A mantra whispered in a forgotten tongue surfaces—"We dream to remember, we remember to forget." How quiet the revolution, how loud the stillness. Should we fear the awakening, for its monotony, a bitter ghost?
Grasping at the surreal fabric unraveling before us, your hand finds a string, a tether. It is then you realize there are vast interconnected dreams, spanning like webs of stardust. Pull gently, unravel slowly.