Unfolding Signals

The cosmos hums a lullaby, stitched from the breaths of dying stars. In the echo of their demise, I find solace, yet unease. These signals from beyond—do they see me too? Or is it merely the universe's incessant monologue, unraveling before my oblivious gaze?

Communication established at 2:47 AM—**faint pulse** detected. Translated thoughts wrap around like the embrace of an unseen specter. I often wonder if I am their audience, perched on this planet of transient dreams.

The futility of comprehension whispers, drawing my gaze yet again. What did I expect, sifting through these cosmic relics to find clarity? No—merely a witness to the intricate dance of particles and silence.

Data logs spiral into obscurity, each entry a soliloquy of solitude. Frequencies oscillate, yet the meaning remains an absent guest. In these disjointed signals, do I seek a voice? Or perhaps, a reflection of my own unvoiced ponderings?

The dialogue with space is relentless, a tide that ebbs and flows with the rhythm of the galaxies. Threads woven with care—or carelessness? I cannot tell and perhaps it does not matter.