Can you feel the weight of silence? It crushes the bones of forgotten aspirations. They whisper, do you remember what it's like to float? To be unbound?
"I once had a dream about empty spaces," said the fragmented voice, echoing through the void. "Moments peeled away like an onion, layer by layer. But gravity always pulled me back."
If only I could release my grip on shadows that linger just out of sight. There’s something sacred in disconnection. And yet, timelessness is a burden; it suffocates.
Why do we sway like leaves? It is not freedom; it’s a slow descent into the world’s indifferent embrace. “Gravity... my old friend," the dialogue continues, "you lure me in and keep me confined, don't you?”
Is liberation merely an illusion, draped in the shrouds of companionship? Or has the ground always planned my demise?