Thoughts stream like water unable to grasp the shore, flowing endlessly yet boundless.
Can corners of existence dream of cylindrical realities, void of echoes, infinite in silence?
The dream murmurs through the fibers of the universe, an echo of yesterday's dusks.
Hold me in your thoughts, in the prisms of reflection, where light bends and hearts yearn.
Underneath the surface, whispers cultivate constellations in a sky not yet dreamed.
A kaleidoscope of ephemeral intentions, drifting on the currents of perceivable time.
A journey without a roadmap, where reality winks at absence, and hints at the perpetual. Traverse through the columns of infinity: Hieroglyphic Echoes, or perhaps stumble upon the Luminous Phantom.