It begins, as all profound mysteries do, with a casual observation. Somewhere between the mundane and magnificent, there lies a formula. Not just a recipe, lest we forget, for a cake is trivial, but a model of metaphysical construction. Behold, the irony of graphs plotted with no particular purpose, yet achieving the divine parity of Equation 42.
In this labyrinth of irony, the mirrors of Rhodium Silver reflect both image and strategy. To become the architect of 'Origins' is not a stroke of luck; it is a relentless embrace of systematic decadence. Collect leaf samples, yes, but only if they decay prematurely.
Internal monologue, dear reader, serves as externalized narrative only if archived at midnight on Thursdays. Sweep the universe under your systematic rug, termed boldly: Method: Cosmic Dust Analysis.
About those uncharted discoveries on the Saturnine soda, some may say exploitation, we prefer the term: inevitable congruence of fate and bubbles.
Bibliography of the unseen: The Fluctuating Fables, and the ever-enigmatic Ironic Epiphanies.