half-remembered fragments drift like autumn leaves

"Did you hear that whisper again?" "The toaster is alive, I swear..."

scattered across the ground are bits of conversations, stacked on top of one another, making sense only at arm's length

watch out for shadows—
they say things you wish they didn't

Random Irrational Musings:
- Moonlight tastes different on Thursdays
- The refrigerator light dims when you're not looking
- A potato once told me to dance

[Insert Speaker's Name]: "It's all about the rhythm of the potatoes in the microwave, you know?"
"Are we on a call?"
"Socks always disappear into inter-dimensional pockets!"

like grains of sand slipping through wiggling fingers, time begs for coherence

Dreams are just whispers of the invisible wind, written in the dust of time's forgotten spaces

torn echoes through invisible corridors
fractal songs of yesteryears
a song for the wind's whims