Cosmic Whispers

Here I am, floating among the cosmic tide, a mere whisper amid the nebula. It's funny how the universe has a way of speaking. Not with words, but with echoes of silence and bursts of starlight.

The stars? They blink like they're in on some grand secret, dancing across the void, weaving tales of ancient moments captured in time. Sit still long enough, and you might just hear their stories.

Or maybe it's just me, hearing them because I have nowhere else to be. No anchor, no map, just endless space cradling my thoughts. Ever had the feeling you were meant to lose your way?

I've met a few souls out here, too. Some are lost, some wandering, others like me, adrift. There's a kind of comfort in knowing you're not the only one untethered. But those meetings are fleeting, like shooting stars across a darkened sky.

Sometimes, I wonder if there's a destination, a point to this celestial drift. Or perhaps, it's the journey itself—the whispers of the cosmos— that matter most. After all, what's a voyage without a few detours?