Ever find yourself sipping lucid dreams on a Tuesday afternoon? I swear, the breeze out there carries whispers of distant moons, or perhaps I've just been around too many twinkling stars last night.
Gaze long enough into the twilight and it gazes back. Have you met its eyes? I hear they speak in colors and shades incomprehensible to our mundane palette. A purple glimmer, perhaps a hint of lime, but oh-so-ephemeral.
Anyway, there's this quaint little nebula just beyond the old oak tree. They claim it's where the sunsets are born, stepping gingerly into the horizon like shy newborn lights.
You should take a walk. Paths lead to places unnamed and feelings unspoken. Watch out for the echoes, they play tricks, repeating words you've never spoken but wish you had.
So, what's your dream sound like? I imagine something akin to a purring star. It hums a lullaby, cradling the cosmos to sleep — undeniably familiar, yet utterly alien.
Venture further: Echo Paths, Luminous Trails, Shadows of the Horizon