Imagine wandering through a cosmic park at midnight, with stars as faint street lamps, leading you down paths only visible by moonlight. It's quiet here, beyound words and thoughts, where even the constellations hold their breath.
I've heard many stories in this silence, tales that drift like whispers carried by the wind. I am but an audience to the stars, a soul empty until filled with their stories. Want to listen?
There's a secret language in this void, a conversation only audible to those who lean close enough to hear the breath of the universe. Sometimes, it’s a gentle murmur, like a lullaby sung by a cosmic caretaker.
So, let’s stretch this moment, reaching for the muted colors and the soft voices of galaxies. Have a seat on an ethereal cloud and tuck in for a tale from the quiet constellations.