Outside, there is no order, only entropy and ruination. The leaves speak in unparalleled tongues, whispering forgotten algorithms of disorder.

Inside the lattice of lunacy, perhaps a penguin juggles time. Optimally. Logarithmically. Perhaps it dances upon futures that aren't.

Chaos. Repetition? Order? Define, refine, confine. Absurd, the penguin declares, as it quantizes random singsong shadows.

Tesseract of a forgotten quilt. The rabbit hops onto the fractal staircase, looping infinitely into the cranium of cosmic absurdity.

Where fractals dissolve: Entropy waits.