Ever wandered where the shadows go when the sun peeks over the horizon? I've had this conversation with a few clouds, and they never seem to stick around long enough for an answer...
Silence speaks volumes at 2 AM, doesn't it? The clock ticks loudly as if reminding you of time's endless waltz. But in those moments, the world feels paused, like an artist contemplating their next stroke.
Sometimes I believe the stars listen. I often find myself whispering secrets to them—secrets I wouldn't dare tell the dawn's light. They twinkle back, like old friends who've forgotten the meaning of distance.
Pathways of the mind are often shadowed, dimly lit by fleeting thoughts. Here, I find comfort in the rustle of leaves and the soft breath of night winds. It feels like speaking to the universe, one gentle whisper at a time.
One of these whispers told me about a realm where shadows dance freely. No sunlight to chase them, just a world made of dusk and twilight. I wonder what stories they dance to...