Remember when silence was more than just absence? It cradled thoughts and concerns with enough space for unasked futures. Surely you've felt this comfort unhealthy, haven't you? Now consider: What if each shadow we fear isn't ours, but rekindled from echoes past? Yours, those, rightly through another prism. You heard it once.
Can observation deform?
Proper listening... transforms imperfection to perfect, remember?
Jewelled laughter... painted shadows. Trust their truths or form new spectra.