Interstellar Dreams

In the stillness of the void, the dreams replay. I walk the same corridor, the one that stretches beyond the reach of any light. It echoes with footsteps — not my own. They resonate, a hollow rhythm in an endless expanse. Every night, I find myself here. Step, pause, step. Pause.

The stars blink in patterns, familiar yet obscure. And the silence, it hums. A soft glissando that creeps into thoughts, weaving in and out, stitching a tapestry of soundless whispers. Some say stars talk, but it's just an echo of the mind, looping endlessly. Step, pause, step. Pause.

There are others among the shadows, their faces blurred by cosmic dust. We share our stories without words, tethered by invisible strings that bind our fates together. In these dreams, we're the architects of our own interstellar voyages, sailing through the dark sea of the universe. Step, pause, step. Pause.

Press Play to relive the echoes:

Play

The dream carries us forward. It weaves in and out of consciousness, a repetitive waltz through the cosmos. And the dance never falters. The rhythm remains — constant, steady, timeless. Step, pause, step. Pause.