Voices echo through the corridors of the mind, swirling in a tapestry woven from memories long past. The recurring nudge—an uncharted labyrinth.
Each night, the same fragments materialize: laughter unmoored from the settings in which you once thrived; whispers of advice from a time when the stars aligned for a better version of yourself.
The act of dreaming, a haunting reverberation, urges us to engage with unresolved shadows. Why do these ethereal whispers surface?
In the realm of our nightly voyages, whispers reverberate beyond the filter of time:
“Remember the garden where the fireflies danced? Or was it a figment of hope?”
Listen to your past, as it murmurs the tales unsaid.