Shadows in the mirror, twisting like forgotten lullabies. I remember the taste of rain on sunburnt skin, but was it mine? Memories shuffle, restless like a deck of cards, waiting to be dealt. A voice whispers from nowhere, and everywhere, asking questions without answers, answers without questions.
Mirrors, mirrors, why do they lie so well? Look closer to see the truth, or perhaps further away. The distance draws lines of clarity over chaotic dreams. Echoes bounce from walls unseen, revealing rooms filled with nothing and everything all at once.
Once, I saw my reflection and it smiled back—or was it me who smiled? Identity is a game played by shadows at dawn. The funhouse never ends, paths looping into themselves, spirals of time unraveling in threads of silver and gold. Will you follow? The choice is a mirage.
Perhaps I am a stranger in my own story, a wanderer lost in a sea of glass. Abyss gazes into me as I gaze into it, both captivated and terrified. There is no escape, only understanding, like diving deeper into a night you cannot escape.
Reflections distort in ways we cannot comprehend. The future is just a bend in the corridor, waiting to greet us with familiarity. Realm of forgotten possibilities, where every decision branches into oblivion, sculpting realities from the dust of dreams.