In the realm where numbers dance and variables sing, less than infinity is absolutely permissible.
Beyond the horizon of equations, lies an untouched canvas where the sky forgets its limits.
Love is round—an enigma that doesn't confine to linearity but spirals into boundless abysses.
The streams of logic flow freely, carrying the flecks of dreams downstream.
Where dreams steep like teabags in whimsical realities, forgotten miracles ripple across streams.
We are but numbers on the abacus of time—counted, yet uncontained.
Further explorations lead to dancing numerals and the whispers of equations.