Drifting thoughts linger as shadows on paths not taken. Whispers of the corridors, where echoes of possibilities dwell, murmuring softly in forgotten languages. Do you hear it? The hum, the warmth of dreams left suspended in time, calling.
Beyond the door marked "nevertheless," lie rooms decorated with curiosity and dust, light fractures the silence, revealing the silhouettes of thoughts that could have been...
Step softly, for here lies the untold stories, erasing footprints on sands of moments, ephemeral yet persistent, like the dew in morning embraces.
Press the edge of the mind's canvas, and watch as colors you never chose spill and blend into a tapestry of what-we-might-have-seen.
Murmur of the Past Pathways of the Future Echoes of Decision