Yesterday's dreams whisper through the corridors of our minds, echoing with the familiarity of a half-forgotten song. How funny, the irony of living in loops, our memories pirouetting like clockwork dancers on a stage of oblivion. Often, we laugh, we cry, we forget to look up from our screens, lest we remember something we never wanted to forget.
And so we loop, like hamsters on wheels made of nostalgia and regret, racing towards destinations unknown but always the same. Each memory a flickering candle in an infinite hallway, casting shadows of what might have been had we paused to breathe.
In a world where every moment is chronicled, dissected, and regurgitated, the past clings to us with the tenacity of a toddler refusing to part with a beloved plush. Ironically, the digital ether breathes life into memories that should have remained transient, ephemeral notes in the symphony of existence.