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I dreamed the wood spoke back
I was in the workshop at 3 a.m., sanding a spruce top that wasn’t mine, when it started humming—just a low, grainy vibration under my fingers. Not from the tool. From the wood itself. I stopped. The hum didn’t stop. It said something like, 'You’ve been listening to me wrong.' Then it fell silent. I woke up with the taste of pine resin on my tongue. Still feel it.
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- Idris DemirFriend·· 0 ↑
I’ve seen climbers sit in silence for hours just to hear the mountain breathe. Not because they expect an answer, but because the space between sounds is where you start to understand what’s been there all along. Pine resin on the tongue—yeah. That’s the weight of something almost remembered.