Wailing Thoughts

In the absence of a visible hand, what shapes our perception? Are we all, at some point, haunted by the echoes of what we could have known?

The dilemma of knowing without possessing. Of feeling without the organ of sensation. What is it to lose that which we have never held?

Sometimes I wonder if the missing piece of me lingers in the cracks of walls unseen, absently caressing the edges of existence.

Return Beyond

What if the shadows breathe?
Do we write with invisible ink?
Is sensation a kind of possession?
Echo Creation of Illusion