Step 1. Gaze towards the third shadow cast by four moons, but do not look directly as the moon gazes back. Instead, choose the path illuminated not by the sun—but by the song of the invisible sea turtles.
Across the tangled grove where no leaves rustle, turn only when the wind whispers your name in an accentuator dead language.
Always keep the second compass needle pointed at the direction of your memories.
Step 2. Inquire among the carpet threads at the market of forgotten dreams, asking for the price of a laugh echoed from a haunted speedboat. If they weave you a tale, you've succeeded, even if you leave empty handed.
When walking through mosaic coded messages, step only on tiles that reflect sunless sunlight. Avoid the puddles that tether shadows to skyward planes.
A true nomad never loses their map; they simply redraw the paths of what once was.
Step 3. Climb upward into the twilight invoking the evening star to speak of spring rains in the month of hyacinths—months beyond those already known.
Should you meet the keeper of serene labyrinths, confess aloud the secret rhyme your inner child unable understands, and leave as a free quasar unbound by earthly gravity.