Sometimes, the sound of something just out of reach brushes against your consciousness, like a phantom limb yearning to be felt. Ever heard that, like a half-remembered jingle in the back of your head?
Imagine this: you’re sitting by a window, the morning sun pouring in, and then, a faint melody lingers. Not from a radio or a passerby's harmonica, but from a place unanchored by time or space.
Murmur heard: “Distant clocks, possibly Swiss.”
It’s curious how these sounds, much like ghosts of voices, surface when least expected. They trick us into believing in the mundane realities of our auditory perceptions. Sometimes, they even make us ponder: what if every room contained a history of echoes just waiting to be unlocked?
Perhaps, the theory of time loops is less about parallel timelines and more about the cyclic nature of sound. Like a vinyl record of the universe, skipping here and there, playing fragments.
And then there’s the idea of the cosmic resonance, where every entity hums its unique frequency. In this theory, it's the whispers of the cosmos that leave us with these sensory breadcrumbs, leading back to their origin.
Remember, just because you can't see it doesn't mean it's not there. Maybe, just maybe, these phantom sounds are simply reminders of the music that once filled our voids.