everynight, the yarn of memories meets the needles of imagination. here, in the workshop of dreams, seeds are knitted. seeds of adventure, visions of a future. and some old self peeks through the cracks of youth and quietly chuckles in mirth, with the remembrance of that brave, limitless disposition. the marks your feet leave on this earth may dry up, wash away, but they ultimately intertwine and tangle to create a thread of memories that are intricately woven together each night by the skilled hands of inspiration.
where to now?
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