Whispers from Astral Matrice

In the void, we write stories of stars, not soothed by rhyme, but in the language of arithmetic.

Do equations commute with fate, or is the universe the onomatopoeia of rebellion against its chains?

As night sky exhibits its embroidered infinity, remember to question the fabric whence it was woven.

Reflective thought orbits around:

• Can you quantify a shadow with the theorem of light?
• What asymptote embraces eternity?

Silent Soliloquies

Zero Hour