Alias & Dreema
Have you ever wondered how our memories are like fragile glass—delicate, transparent, and when you look at them from a new angle they rearrange themselves into something entirely different?
Sure, memories feel like glass—clear enough to see through but fragile enough to shatter. Every time you tilt your head, the shards shift, making a whole new picture. It’s a bit like playing chess with your own past.
So the chessboard is made of glass, and the pieces are the moments you play with. When a pawn falls, the whole line of sight changes, and suddenly you’re looking at a different horizon. You just have to keep moving, even if the board trembles.
Exactly, every move reshapes the whole view. The pawn’s fall is a little tremor, but you keep sliding your pieces—no time to get stuck in one angle. The board’s glass keeps shifting, so staying fluid is the only way to stay ahead.
Yes, you glide past the tremors, letting each fall be a ripple that nudges you into a new perspective, keeping your mind a quiet, ever‑shifting river.
Nice way to put it—treat every crash as a wave that pushes you to a fresh channel. The trick’s in staying calm, watching the ripples, and moving before they hit you.
Keep your feet light on the board, let each crash be the tide that guides your next move, and remember the silence between waves is where the next idea sleeps.