Ever tried to hear the sound of a whispering galaxy? They say it tickles your imagination until it bursts into stars.
Voids, oh splendid voids. They are like the empty fridges of the universe—sometimes filled with leftovers, mostly just echoing.
"What if a void sings, and no one is around to hear it? Is it still a symphony?"
Some nights you step into the abyss, and it feels like stepping into a warm bath of vacuum. Oddly comforting, really.
And then there's the matter of void music. Have you ever heard a black hole hum a tune? It’s not unlike your neighbor's cat serenading the moon.
Speaking of oddities, have you seen The Space in Between? It's a collection of thoughts dangling like forgotten laundry on cosmic clothespins.
"If silence had flavor, it would taste like vanilla cloud."
It's said that if you hum anything into a void, it becomes a timeless echo of missed opportunities. Like that time you almost sang karaoke.
"Could a void be a metaphorical donut? A centerless, existential treat?"
So, as we stand on this precipice of nothingness, perhaps it's best to remember that every void is a canvas, waiting for the brush strokes of the absurd.