I’ve been staring at the way city lights bleed through concrete cracks, almost like the desert sun flickering on sand. Ever notice how shadows in dunes pull out shapes you don’t see at daylight, just as neon can hide a city’s quiet rhythm?

Yeah, the glow is just a trick of perspective. In a city you’re always chasing that one angle that feels like it could capture the whole thing, but the ground stays stubbornly ordinary, like that desert sand that never really moves even when you’re standing on it. The rhythm you feel is more about your own pulse than the actual shift of the grains.It’s the same with city lights—there’s a pulse you can almost hear, but the streets stay the same, the bricks don’t rearrange themselves just because a billboard flickers. The real movement is in the way you see it.

They look the same from every angle, but if you pause long enough you might see a grain change its shadow, a tiny hint that even stillness can be alive.