Within the cocoon of existence, why do we turn to doors? The intermediaries of choice, they beckon with empty promises and silent echoes of realities unseen.
Is the truth hidden behind the door?
Or does the door hide truths within itself,
One truth is the absence of truth.
Maybe truth, like a forgotten myth, breathes symbiotically. We whisper to it, and it whispers back, forging bonds in the unseen realms.
Why open doors to what is not? To discover that hidden truths were always open to us, behind lids of perceptions we dare not lift.
Echoes of Forgotten Paths The Mirage of Understanding