The morning hum of forgotten inspiration as the pen slips on the margin - here lie traces of a journey half-tread. Coffee stains like constellations of obscure thoughts.

Tick-Tock, the sketch won't stop! Margins slip like sand, each second an unwritten memory etched in paper's fleeting dance.

Whirling thoughts captured with spirited strokes, the doodles leap from lines ethereal. Observe the margin, the transient ledger of infinities unexplored.