You ever sit and watch the stars, like they're old friends you just can't remember how you met? Each twinkle, a secret shared across eons. I was lost in one such moment, when a thought wrapped around me like a silent nebula.
"Do galaxies dream?" I pondered aloud, the cosmos responding with a hush. Some would say I'm eccentric, others might nod knowingly, like they understand whispers from light-years away.
Interests like ours bleed into the stars. Remember those games we played as kids, where you could be anything, anywhere? The whispered nebula has no boundaries, no rules. Just endless possibilities.
Amidst the swirling darkness, I found a whisper, a clue: "Truth lies in the spaces between the orbits." A riddle perhaps, or just a gentle nudge toward introspection.
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