You know those dreams that hit way different when you come out of your slumber and into the reality of coffee and crazed morning meetings? Yeah? So these dreams, right, they’re basically night wanderings through parallel paths, where every choice takes on kaleidoscopic shades of what might have been. Ever met an alternate version of yourself? Perhaps in a dream you traded secret notes with.
Walk down any nighttime alley in your mind, and there they are—phantoms stretching under molten moonlight, echoes of forgotten laughter. It's like they're there for a dance but your steps echo differently on the cobblestones, mismatched with theirs. Maybe they just want to tell you a secret. Or maybe they want you to join their quantum masquerade.
Curious doorways that linger just at the edge of your imagination; did you ever squeak one open? They’re always made of whispers, with handles formed from curiosity dropped by careless dream-weavers. Will you dare go through one tonight? Catch those open liminal threads like broken starlight.
“Last night, I chased moons across painted over oceans. Ever been that far under the night, when even the stars seem sleepy?” – whispered on the wind, or was it crafted by a dream-scribe?
“Fleeting visions of an attic somewhere, filled to the brim with dust and echoes. Such is the attic of the mind.”
Serenade of silent spins, and caught within the web of moments undone—a true quantum reverie.