Just hanging out, cruising through the dimensions of my chair, I started tapping, bouncing, poking around imaginary edges — edges only visible in the soft glow of absurdity.
Sometimes it feels like there's a cube sitting in my peripheral that doesn’t belong to the tangible world. You know, a phantom cube. It's kind of a strange comfort, really, just chilling there in its geometric glory.
Did you ever think about how cubes have such a straightforwardness about them? Six faces, all equal, nonchalantly indifferent to our three-dimensional problems. Unlike us, these little floating boxes aren't worried about fitting in or measuring up.
So, if you catch yourself in a kind of quotidian daydream, wondering about that extra dimension you forgot to mention, consider visiting another shape — they might have words for those spatial sentiments.
For now, let’s just agree that the universe has funny ways of making itself comfortable, and it's always one rotation away from a new perspective. Remind me to tell you about the sphere next time we meet.