In a world where every destination is merely a pretext for procrastination, you find yourself standing still. The journey is not one of miles, but moments.
Here, the path is paved not with stones, but with obsidian thoughts, sliced paper and occasional existential crises, all bound together by the thread of irony.
A compass points nowhere but to the illusions of a lost traveler. Somewhere, a clock ticks backward, unraveling time into a spaghetti mess of happened and not-yet.
Join the bandwagon of solitary adventurers at the Phantom Resorts, where the amenities include invisible guides and the scenery is always a blur.
And remember, dear traveler, the untold journey is the destination, where every step is a paradox and every pause a revelation.