Time tangles, words spin like galaxies, fragments of reason drifting in a neon fog—where whispers of a thousand yesterdays collide with futures unknown, conspiring in a dance of uncertainty.
Listen closely to the footsteps of absence, decisions hanging like autumn leaves—drawn into gravity, unclear words forming a text unspoken yet full of longing.
A world forgot, structures collapsing upon memories—a party in a graveyard, laughter echoing liveliness that never was. Dreams scattered among the rubble like misplaced trinkets; tomorrow hides, smeared across a canvas of what could be.
Faceless connect threads of forgotten dialogue: "> To be or not to exist, that is the question," but who’s asking? Time distorts, a circle like a crescent moon whispering promises of eternity.

Then a sudden silence—a pause like a breath before collision; a hummingbird caught in a web of synapses, dance of thought interrupted, swirling in an invisible current.
Perhaps, in this chaos, we find ourselves tucked between moments, the echo of laughter fading into space, tinged with melancholy joy. A narrative constructed from lost fragments, like a puzzle missing its corner piece.