In the solitude of the cosmos, a single nebula drifts silently, echoing the silent screams of its stars. Does it reflect your dreams, or merely absorb the wisps of thoughts we leave scattered in the dark? It seems a canvas of forgotten emotions, painting the void with hues of sorrow and longing[^1].
Beneath the layers of dust and time, there exists a pattern as old as the universe itself[^2]. Such patterns are imprinted not only in the heavens but also in the crevices of our minds, where each thought spirals outward, creating a cosmic dance[^3].
In hushed tones, the universe whispers^4. Secrets carried on solar winds, tales of ancient star nurseries, and the slow maturation of cosmic entities. These whispers travel through interstellar currents, waiting for ears attuned to the silence between the notes[^5].