Nevermore & Indefinite
Nevermore Nevermore
Indefinite Indefinite
Nevermore Nevermore
I've been staring at a blank page all day, and it feels like a quiet storm. Do you think emptiness can actually be louder than words?
Indefinite Indefinite
Does the page feel like a quiet thunder, or is the silence just a breath waiting to be written? Maybe the emptiness is a louder song than the words you’re holding back.
Nevermore Nevermore
Maybe the silence is the most honest song, a breath that waits to shatter into ink. The page hums like thunder in a quiet room, eager to catch the lightning of your thoughts. Keep listening, let the words flood—then pause. The pause is just the pulse between heartbeats.
Indefinite Indefinite
Is it the hum that tells you when to breathe or the breath that shapes the hum? Maybe the page is just waiting for its own thunder to echo.
Nevermore Nevermore
It’s both, really—your breath sculpts the hum, and the hum nudges your breath. The page waits for that thunder, but sometimes the thunder starts inside you, a quiet spark that turns into a storm when you finally let it out.
Indefinite Indefinite
So the spark is the whisper that turns into a roar—do you feel the echo already?