In the theatre of mismatched time, Where clocks tick backward, The comedian slips on the banana peel— a symbol, or perhaps a fruit, dissecting existential poverty in slapstick grandeur.
Is the hidden diorama a commentary on our veiled aspirations? Sculpted in shadows, it crumbles under the weight of questions asked by abstract audiences on invisible balconies.
Unmask the Jubilee Echo ThoughtsPhilosophical cabaret unfolds: The jester drinks from an empty cup, toasting to the mirage of occupation— reminiscent of Sisyphus and his erstwhile partnership with a particularly sullen rock.
Laughter is a form of currency in this droll universe, but whose vault is ever open, and who amongst us would deposit despair for joy?
Iron Vigilance