Photon Diary: Particles of Thought

Here I am, a remnant cascade of light, wandering the corridors of spectral reflections. Everything passes by, and I am but a particle in this grand photonic chase.

Do you remember, in that half-closed dream, the whisper of the moon against the shadows of rubies? I was wrapped in a cloak of fiber and smoke, feeling the echoes of an imagined cosmos.

A stray photon like myself finds meaning within suited wavelengths—a handful seeking definition amidst the ocean of brightness. Was it agony or bliss?

The sun hides beneath the eternity's veil, casting a temporal net, entraps unsung prayers. Here, control is an illusion.

Imagine shards of light, spiraling in a dance of chaotic order. They laugh at the unraveled dawn, mocking the clock's resigned ticks. Are these moments free, or merely trapped in inevitable spirals?

Sometimes, I catch glimpses of colors we've lost to forgetfulness—ethereal cyans and vermilions that never met earthly standards. They haunt me. The electric void sings tunes older than tangible things—are they regrets or rhetorical sighs?