There’s something haunting about the way the light shifts in the evening. Like it’s trying to tell you something—something you’ve always known yet never fully believed. If only reflections could speak...
Do you ever wonder about the roads not taken? Ah, that cliché! But isn’t it true—each choice we don’t make creates a ghost right beside us, trailing through existence, whispering the “what-ifs” incessantly?
Speaking of whispers, it’s curious how soft voices amidst the chaos can bring back memories better than any photo or frame. Let’s drift back to a moment—light filtering through the leaves, shadows dancing, laughter, tastes of ice cream on a summer’s day.
But this memory—it’s slipped through my fingers like water. Ha! Isn’t that what memories do? They plague you just when you think you’re done with them. Flickers of nostalgia wrapped in the flavor of regret. The echoes suggest there is something more...
On the outside, it’s a busy street, people bustling by like shadows in a murky dream. Do you ever think they might also feel this dissonance—the oddity of being human? Silly Eves and wandering Adams, lost metaphors of a life never dreamt fully awake.
Here’s a thought—what if today’s reflection in the mirror was really someone else that longed to exist, grabbing at the corners of your soul while you sip overly sweetened coffee? Do you taste that sweetness as you nod in agreement?
But fear not; there are links to wander— Other Dreams & Twisting Paths await. Who knows where they lead?