Ephemeral Symphony

Imagine if you could tune into the frequency of forgotten realms. That's kind of what I'm doing here, scribbling notes through the time-woven tapestry.

"You hear that hum?" she asked, looking past the curtains that weren't really there. "It's the laughter of the universe, or maybe just a traffic jam in the astral winds."

Not much different from our mundane musings, eh? Waking dreams rattling like old keys in a jar.

It's wild how these symphonies are just —the orchestra of hidden echoes. Fleeting notes sliding into the ever-absent present.

Nebulous friends, remember:

Wander the Glimmering Abyss, if the opportunity arises. Bring your favorite riddles—they tend to attract the curious.

Perhaps we’ll meet again in a whispered interlude, hanging between reality and dream, like a threadbare note left on a piano's edge.