Fractals of existence dissolve into languid moments; the dimension moves.
Decay is a relative term, gauged by the vibrational frequency of unmet expectations.
Evidence suggests that matter may be more than mass, resonating with the history of untold encounters.
Entropic drift becomes inevitable, guided unwittingly by the invisible threads of connection.
These threads, sensitive like spider silk, weave through each interaction; they accumulate dust, rendering their strength ephemeral.
The invisible reeling attracts divergence; yet, do we cling to them in a futile attempt at coherence?
What if sound waves echo through quantum strings, rendering our thoughts mere calipers in this vast decay?