Plasticity of Thought

The mind reaches, stretches, the fabric of discourse unfurling like a ribbon in a door frame, flapping with the cadence of breathing, twisting metaphors born from the ashes of a dream once had, echoing through quantum corridors—the ballet of atoms perceiving each other from across voids.

Imagine, consuming thoughts like waves swallowing pebbles whole; each idea a world, a curl of time interlaced, familiar strangers exploding in reverberation — “Where is the corridor leading?” “I am walking, but only a swirl of colors make sense.”

No distance exists as I traverse this feeling, fingers grazing the fabric of space, the words surrounding—plasticity tamed, pliable and mocking, a dance through electric whims, commingling particles of memories, fragmenting in a kaleidoscope flash.

In this quantum equation of breath, strands of reality knot and twist, a palimpsest written over, infinity doodles dotting a landscape that resists definition— a simple click can unravel it all^† Echoes of Time, that old clock who knows secrets only the shadows understand.