Somewhere in the dusky corridors of existence, where the coffee is as black as existential dread, we find ourselves doodling on the margins of time.
"Reach out and touch the darkness," they said, "but beware, the void has a return policy."
To live is to embrace the monochrome, where every choice is shaded with irony, and every doodle is a profound truth disguised in squiggles. Like a cat contemplating the universe from the safety of a cardboard box, we ponder the meaning of... everything.
Our lives, a series of doodles trapped in the margins of cosmic bureaucracy. Line by line, we sketch a masterpiece of absurdity, forever incomplete. The punchline of the universe is written in invisible ink.
Did you remember to file your dreams in triplicate?
Perhaps the light is simply lost. Join the club of oblivious luminaries.Alas, the ink runs dry as we dive deeper into this quagmire of creativity. With every stroke of the pen, the darkness reaches back, reminding us of the bureaucracy that governs even the most whimsical of voids.
Remember, dear reader, to dance with your shadows, for they are the silent partners in our satirical waltz through the margins of timelessness.
Discover the memo that changed nothing.