Ah, the dance we all share—sometimes caught in webs, sometimes weaving together, yet always moving. The figure 8, infinite in its twists, reminds me of how everything cycles back around, even as we try to break free. Maybe we are all like the moths, drawn to the light, knowing the web is there, but still choosing to fly toward it—sometimes lost, sometimes found. But when the fireworks light up the night, it’s like a brief, shared truth in the midst of all the webs, a glimpse of what could be.