When the nebula blinks, we often forget it shares the temporal disconnect of our digital wristwatch, oscillating between silence and brilliance in a dance more trust than chaotic.
Lights. Just little lights. Are they stars pretending modesty or are they but cosmic LED lights arranged by the universe’s handyperson? Here lie outbursts of stellar soirées, winking with the irony of knowing, yet never saying, the distance of existence.
The clockwork mind of a nebula: sometimes punctual, often whimsical, always inexplicably pivotal.
Nebula, what ponderous plight?
Stranded light beams often question their purpose, these echoes of past explosions ask: "To illuminate or to imitate?" Realize that even stars wink with the doubt of their destination.