Patterns, often revered, tend to illicit fear when discovered under beds or in shadowy corners. The laundry basket offers repeating motifs that mock our sense of order.
Strange symbols discovered on the 42nd shelf of an IKEA catalogue. Left pondering, right folding: ☉⊗⊕⊛
Meeting agendas, bureaucratic webs—they create fates as delightful as macrame vines in corporate dungeons.
Beneath the surface, we see them, the true artisans of confusion: pigeons on park benches, waiting to detonate surreal breadcrumbs into binary morse.
Often our best weapon against unknown patterns. When a pigeon coughs, do we decipher wing language or walk faster?
Data-driven nightmares predict the patterns in melted ice-cream that suggest the next president might just be flavor-oriented.