Geologist & Ancord
I’ve been thinking—do you ever feel like the layers in a rock are like the layers of a mind, each stratum holding a different story that never fully erodes away?
Yeah, I think the mind’s strata are a lot like a rock—each layer keeps a snapshot of a moment, hardened by time. The surface might get scratched, but the deeper parts? They’re just waiting for someone to pry them out and read the old stories they hold. It's a weird comfort, if you ask me, that somewhere inside there's always a fossil of a thought that hasn't yet decayed.
Sounds like a field trip for the mind—dig slowly, respect the seams, and you'll find the real gems buried beneath the surface.
I keep hoping the deeper strata hold more than just dust, but it’s a slow excavation, yeah.
Slow and steady, that's the trick—every tiny chip you chip away can reveal a whole new layer of insight. Keep at it, and the deeper you go, the richer the story gets.
Maybe, but sometimes the deeper layers just echo the same old questions, so you might end up with a stack of similar riddles instead of fresh gems. Still, I’ll keep digging.