Lost Paths

In the alleys of shadowed experiences, the recollections linger and dance. Sometimes it's a syllable, vibrating in the hollow of forgotten songs.

You find fleeting echoes, voices murmuring from the cracked pavements of memory.
The past, it seems, is an insatiable itch.

Should I trust the semblance of reality when everything oscillates in technicolor? The clock chimes three, yet it never was a time.

It whispers sweet nothings, tantalizing truths spacing endlessly in quantum loops. Do you recall? The carousel that never left the ground.

Step into the Quantum Junctions Visit Dark Primary Reflections