Within the silence of untapped potential, the dreams linger: fragile as gossamer threads, waiting to be woven into the tapestry of existence. They whisper sweet nothings, vague and intangible, inviting the curious mind to venture forth and ponder the questions best left unanswered.
To reach the realm of unmanifested, one must first traverse the invisible paths: climb the stairway that leads nowhere, swim against the current of the still pond, and speak to the winds as if they were old friends. Yet, beware: the directionless compass may guide you true, while the map of empty spaces reveals all without showing anything at all.
Follow these steps, if you dare: