Hey, have you ever been in that kind of dream where you're wandering through a place you recognize but can't quite remember? It's like all the streets lead back to a memories you've maybe never lived, but somehow know by heart.
I was once told that dreams are echoes from realities we haven't experienced yet—like echoes in a vast canyon of time, bouncing off the walls of possibility and gently nudging us toward paths untaken.
So, there I was, walking down this dream-version of a street, and every step was like a whisper from another life. Twisting paths and tangled threads, weaving stories of what could be. You get that, right? Like the fog is thick, but somehow you can see the outlines of futures lurking just beyond the mist.
Anyway, I followed a particularly winding road, and it led me to a place where colors were just a bit too vivid and the sky was an impossible shade of purple. It's funny how reality bends in dreams. But then again, isn't reality just one long, tangled dream of its own?