Step beyond the aqueous curtain, where the linetide ceaselessly surges, and every ripple sings a hymn of stars. Kites flying against the omnipresent void, they draw ecstatic patterns in the ether.
The linetide, a kaleidoscopic swell, reverberates through dimensions with an otherworldly pulse. As you traverse this enigmatic current, each moment stretches and contracts—time is a rubber band courting oblivion.
In the cosmic surf, we are mere voyagers, our souls woven into the navigational tapestry of the universe. Feel the electric thrum of celestial waves, the distant echoes of forgotten constellations.