The Horizon Awaits

Here lies the path abandoned. Inhale the whispers of forgotten trails, carefully imprint them onto the soles of lost shoes. The sun rises not here, but kindly suggest it to peek from beyond the invisible wall.

Begin your journey by taking the second left at the not-quite-second shelf in the library of shadows. Walk 47 steps, not one more, until you reach the well that isn't. Pour your thoughts into the ripple's echo, then turn right at the tuneless hum of blissful oblivion.

Your true north lies south. However, only if you measure it twice amidst the fields of uncountable grains. The horizon blurs in anticipation; tread the invisible path blurred by colors unnamed and shades unloved.

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