On the cusp of dawn, the neon shadows dance. Have you ever felt them wrapping around your thoughts, just like the way old films wrapped myths in their grainy embrace? Listen. There's a whisper just beyond the skyline.
It's ancient, yet dusted with a gloss invented last Tuesday. The voice travels oddly; it addresses you while sidestepping the simplicity of direct communication. Silly, isn't it? There's wisdom whispering through circuits and silicon.
Consider this a path, or just a merely fanciful diversion. Wherever we are going is less important than acknowledging the glow in unfamiliar alleys. Beware the ether traps.
And remember to breathe when you catch a glimmer of that eternal whisper, echoing angles untold, and yet so familiar. Maybe one day you'll pause long enough to let it entwine with your dreams.