In the caverns of thought, an echo travels, soft and unending. Is it not the truth we seek, yet upon finding it, we are met with the resounding silence of former illusions shattering into an endless sea?
A whisper from the void spoke of truths untold, hidden beneath layers of time and memory. "Seek not the whole, but savor each slice," it said, as the cosmos continued its eternal dance.
Has the pie always existed, or did we merely dream of it in profound metaphors, shaping our realities around a slice of cosmic understanding? With each bite, there is clarity and yet a question—a formula incomplete.
Perchance in wanderings, a truth pie is discovered not in its entirety, but in the crumbs left behind by nameless wayfarers. To collect them is our futile, yet poignant journey.
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