Whims of Yesterday

The spaghetti monster has taken up residence in my mind. He twirls thoughts into marinara sauce, while delivering pizza-flavored wisdom just to overwhelm reality's toppings. Remember the sky? It was teal with hints of raspberry yesterday!

Chasing shadows of that cat shaped like a prawn, you may hear it whisper: "Never trust a mailbox with oily lips." Ah, but try explaining that to the somnolent giraffe who only eats yellow things!

A collection of giggling clouds conspired to erase existential dread—one whispered “Yo-Yo Ma's left sock!” became the global currency of banality while the whispering fish danced like they knew the stock market.