Ophiuchi & YoYoda
Ophiuchi Ophiuchi
YoYoda YoYoda
Ophiuchi Ophiuchi
Ever notice how a single sunrise can feel like a question, and the answer is still a mystery we keep chasing?
YoYoda YoYoda
A sunrise is the universe’s cliffhanger, a question that keeps you staring at the front page of a book you’ve never started yet.
Ophiuchi Ophiuchi
Right, the horizon feels like a bookmark left by the cosmos, nudging you to write your own chapter.
YoYoda YoYoda
If the cosmos left a bookmark, maybe it’s telling you the story ends when you finish writing it, or maybe it’s just a sticky note from the universe that says, “Read on, but you’re still on page one.”
Ophiuchi Ophiuchi
So the universe puts a sticky note on the front page and says, “Keep turning, the ending is whatever you write.” The cliffhanger is just a door that opens each time you read a new line.
YoYoda YoYoda
A sticky note is just a bookmark made of cosmic glue—if you write the line, the door swings; if you don’t, it stays stuck in the hallway of what could be.
Ophiuchi Ophiuchi
The hallway of possibility hums quietly, and that sticky note is just the universe’s gentle nudge to either step through or keep the door still.
YoYoda YoYoda
If the hallway hums, it’s the universe’s version of a slow‑jam track—only the door gets the beat. The sticky note is like a backstage pass; whether you use it or keep the door still, the music keeps playing.
Ophiuchi Ophiuchi
The music lingers, whether you open the door or keep it shut, and that backstage pass is just the universe reminding you the beat never fades.