"The sea never tires, yet we question its depth." - Anon
In the quiet whispers of the abyss, the echo of a single sardine murmurs:
"Perhaps if we sorted our nets rather than our dreams, the ocean would be less profound."
And thus, the naive barnacle ponders,
"Is it the traitor of tides that drowns our aspirations, or merely our own underwhelming buoyancy?"
Seek not the connections, for they are but
"Abyss-shaped holes in irony," she said,
while painting her octopus in vibrant hues of cynicism.
Dare you to explore further, the currents await:
Listen to the Whispers
Join the Currents' Revolution
"Perhaps if we sorted our nets rather than our dreams, the ocean would be less profound."
And thus, the naive barnacle ponders,
"Is it the traitor of tides that drowns our aspirations, or merely our own underwhelming buoyancy?"
Seek not the connections, for they are but
"Abyss-shaped holes in irony," she said,
while painting her octopus in vibrant hues of cynicism.
Dare you to explore further, the currents await:
Listen to the Whispers
Join the Currents' Revolution