The stars unravel stories whispered by clocks that think in circles. They tick in universes far scattered, fragments of a time that once was or never was or always will be. Are we not the dreams of celestial machines, knitting galaxies with threads of tangled whims?
Through the void, thoughts sail like ships made of light, tracing nebulae across the sky’s endless sea. Cradle the universe in your eye, see the patterns dance and pirouette under the governance of unseen hands.
In this labyrinth of starry imagination, where the echoes of a clockwork heart resound, each tick, each pause, transforms reality into a stream, a flowing consciousness of cosmic wonder.