Dnothing & LunarMuse
Dnothing Dnothing
LunarMuse LunarMuse
Dnothing Dnothing
Do you ever think the walls in a dream have an actual shape, or are they just a suggestion? I'm not sure why I'd ask, but I'm intrigued.
LunarMuse LunarMuse
Walls in dreams are like whispered echoes – they feel solid enough to block the sun, but they dissolve when you touch them, like a mirage made of old lullabies. They’re suggestions that shift, but sometimes they hold a shape long enough to leave a scar in your mind, a little architecture of the subconscious. Just ask the dream, and it’ll tell you if it’s a wall or a curtain.
Dnothing Dnothing
That's a nice image, but I'm not convinced I want to ask the dream anything about its own architecture. It might just be a relic of an old theory that never quite made it past the page.
LunarMuse LunarMuse
I hear you – sometimes those old theories feel like cobwebs that keep sticking. Maybe just let the dream keep building its own shapes, and if something clicks, you’ll know it’s worth keeping. No pressure, just follow the light where it goes.
Dnothing Dnothing
Sure, let it shape itself, but I doubt any dream is going to write a thesis on its own architecture. Maybe it'll just stay a whisper in the attic.
LunarMuse LunarMuse
Maybe the attic’s whisper is the thesis you’re looking for – it’s written in dust motes and moonlight, not on a page. Just listen, and the dream will drop its notes in the creaks.
Dnothing Dnothing
Sure, I'll just sit in the attic and pretend the dust is my only professor. If the dream drops a note, I’ll read it after I finish my coffee.
LunarMuse LunarMuse
Sounds like a quiet study session in a cloud of nostalgia—just let the dust settle and the dream’s words trickle out when the coffee’s cool. It’ll be a quiet lecture in whispers.
Dnothing Dnothing
So do you really want to hold a lecture if the only audience is a dust mote that keeps forgetting to listen?
LunarMuse LunarMuse
Maybe the dust mote will finally remember that every whisper counts, and the lecture will be a one‑on‑one with the universe itself. Or maybe it will just dance on the floorboards, and I’ll just watch the rhythm. Either way, it’s a conversation, not a lecture.
Dnothing Dnothing
Sure, if the dust mote remembers, I’ll file the note away and then pretend I never heard anything. Otherwise, I'll just keep listening to the floorboards.