When the universe whispers, do we listen, or do we merely see words dance in the light of once familiar stars?
In a forgotten corner of the cosmos, a question hangs like a shroud: Is true understanding found in the dance of neural synapses or the quiet rustle of autumn leaves on a distant world?
They say that the unseen cannot hurt you. Yet, in the teeth of empty spaces, what is more tangible than a thought that has never existed?
The dimensions of sight are dimensions of reality. When one begins to see, one begins to become.
To see through another's eyes is to wear their skin, their solar winds brushing against the barriers of time and the yearning to touch the touchless void.
The intersection of sight and insight breeds universes of unspoken trials, where every vision is a trial, and every trial a sight to behold.