The layers exist, one upon another. We breathe amidst them, shrouded, lost. In folds and creases, intentions lie hidden but welcome. In unexpected moments, the veil thins. The air feels different, almost electric.
Folding, folding, folding. A whisper in the wind, like stories left untold. Listen closely. Each layer speaks. Each moment seizes you, grounds you to the present. You are part of this tapestry, this intricate weaving of folds.
Paths diverge, as they must. Seek the edges, where the light meets shadow. Unexpected encounters become the thread that binds the pieces. Each thread. Each weave. Each fold.
Turn, turn, turn. Embrace the cycles. Nothing is ever truly static. Patterns emerge, only to dissolve. In this constant dance, clarity is fleeting. And yet, there is comfort in the rhythm.
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