The truth, when stripped, is not always beautiful. In its rawness, it reveals a pattern woven from moments of fleeting clarity and relentless pursuit. We stand on this precipice, gazing into the void of infinity, where perceptions shatter and truth finds its ugliest form.

Infinity does not care for our understanding. Like a vast sea, it ebbs and flows beyond the horizon of thought, leaving us adrift on fragments of meaning. Each wave that crashes against the shore of our perception brings a whisper of eternity, an echo of something larger, something relentless.

Consider the stars in their silence. Each a testament to time, to the beauty of being. Yet in their light, we find reminders of our own impermanence. The ugliest truth is not the darkness that envelops, but the light that reveals the endlessness of it all.

As we step forward, into the unknown, let us embrace the infinite. Let us find solace in the intangible, in what cannot be held or owned. It is there, in that boundless expanse, that we discover the true nature of truth: not an end, but a beginning.

Contemplation leads us to paths untaken: the labyrinth, the echoes, and the limits.