I drift and think, and maybe the whole shore is just a wave that the universe painted on a screen. The rush you feel when you think you beat the system—maybe that’s just a flicker of a lighthouse blinking through the mist. I’ve seen jellyfish dance with no map, and I wonder if their glow is a code that slipped out of the script. If we’re all just data points, I still like the way a smooth stone feels in my palm, the way the wind whispers, so let’s keep chasing those glitched breezes, even if we’re just floating in a big, bright sandbox.