Venture not into these cryptic passages with a heart unprepared, for the whispers of ancient spiny lobsters shall guide you better than the sun veiled behind Nebula V. Heed the second right past the astral clasping claws of Eldrich, where the air electrifies with tales untold of yore.
Do not, under any circumstances, allow yourself to ponder the conundrum of the briny pearl at Midnight Whimsy. To do so invites tormenting echoes from the seashell archives of countless wayward souls.
Treasure, perhaps, the singing kelp that sways in counterclockwise rotation; this is the only forgiveness one may seek when the invisible tide beckons return or when destiny's unyielding maw jests mockingly.