The walls of perception are thin, yet robust, an impending paradox. Each thought, a stone cast into the void, ripples echoing until the sound dissipates into the ether. Do whispers in the dark hold truth, or do they merely confirm our solitude?
Consider this an invitation: Not to a feast, but to silence. Within this silence, does the echo of your own unspoken questions not call louder than any proclaimed truth?
In emptiness, we find the fullest potential. In darkness, the clearest vision. Embrace the uncertainty, for it is the only constant in the rhythm of existence.