In echoes and ergodic transience, we search the rhythm of heartbeats—
Phantom chords reverberate through spaces of absence, begging attention—but attention is the ransom of existence itself.
Shall we illuminate the silence with questions, or is the silence the answer we too often ignore?
The melody of now dances within margins— fleeting notes in the margins of clarity.
In this systemic chaos, find exaltation in unheard harmonics.
Would you like to hear the silence, or are you content to envision the unheard?