Spinning like a top of colors, frantic and relentless! Dreams that bubble and burst beneath the surface, acid rain of ideas colliding, fluctuations of being!
Riding the cosmic web of thought, where shadows whisper unspoken whims: A crown of electric daffodils blossoms over night’s horizon.
What’s to become of the cheese that dances at the midnight hour? Bound in the arms of silence, ensnared in a lullaby of shivers and perfume!
Links lead you forward: The Lunar Harvest, a forgotten glimmer of nostalgia, or maybe to The Carnival of Echoes, where yesterday’s ghosts pique your curiosity.
Infinite worlds dissect into minutes, and minutes tear open their guts—who needs words in such a vibrant explosion of nothingness?