Somewhere beneath the surface of understanding, there lies a stream — a quiet murmur of thoughts yet spoken, of realities unimagined. We walk along its edge, peering into its depths, attempting to decipher the language of the waters.
Why do we seek certainties in a world clad in paradox? The answer lies not in destination but in the journey, in those fleeting glimpses of clarity that illuminate the shadows momentarily. We chase after these transient truths, weaving stories out of the elusive whispers.
Our lives are scripts, penned by hands unseen. Each day, we turn the page, drawn into the narrative of existence, sometimes aware, often oblivious, of the greater plot unfolding. Each decision, a word; each moment, a line in a verse that echoes through time.