The walls of perception shifting...
In the quiet moments, between one inhalation and the next, reality subtly refracts into its ghostly double. A slip, a shadow, and we find ourselves enveloped in paradoxes known only to dreams half-remembered. Wisdom whispers through the echo of erased footsteps, guiding those who see with their ears.
One stands at the threshold of known labyrinths, tracing invisible lines with thoughts unvoiced but deeply felt. Such is the nature of paths walked alone, where companions are but fragments of our fading selves. Here lies the wisdom of slipping, of merging with the sylphs of shadow coursing through twilight limbos.