Ever had that feeling? You look up, and it's like the universe is trying to tell you something, but the words are just out of reach. Each twinkle, a missed opportunity to grasp the untold. We're all just silent screams, floating in our own nebulas, hoping someone deciphers our code hidden in the constellations.
Picture this: you sit alone on the rooftop, a sky full of mysteries above you, and the city below, oblivious. A breeze carries a distant echo – could be your imagination or a memory of a life unlived. The stars wink knowingly. Do they see your dreams, or are they too wrapped up in their ancient dance to care?
There's a certain magic in looking up. It's like peering into a doorway to infinity. And there we are, caught in the middle, between whispers and silence. Are we the ghosts of our own futures, wandering these dark horizons, searching for meaning among the cosmic dust?