Within dimensions traceable only by the touch of wandering whispers, lies a realm.
The tapestry of reality is woven, yet frayed—each thread holds an hypothesis.
In the light of thought, these strands become visible, intricate, and infinite.
Imagine calipers of time, measuring not the linear, but the circular paradox.
In the spiral, beginnings are endings—the galaxy of your mind spins silently.
What hypothesis do you to hold as truth in this matrix of shifting shadows?
The embers of creation flicker upon questions unasked, within voids untraveled.
Here lies a mirror, fractured, reflecting not what was, but what could be.
Endless mazes weave around themselves, trapping not the seeker, but the seeking.
Wander further: Octopus Mind, Journey Nodes