Next Destination

Welcome, weary traveler! You've stumbled upon the musings of one who is terribly lost, both geographically and existentially.

My journey began on a Tuesday—or was it a Thursday? Time is but a construct, much like my understanding of directions.

Along my route, I found a strange creature—a cat, I think—staring at me with the confidence of a thousand philosophers. I have since named it Socrates the Unfazed.

Every path I've taken has a signpost, but they're all in languages I don't comprehend. The latest one says "lasagna," and frankly, I'm intrigued.

Some say getting lost is a journey in itself; I say it's an overly ambitious attempt at exploring the local area without a map or common sense.

If you seek wisdom, stop by the tree that looks suspiciously like a giraffe. Or don't. Either way, you might find yourself in the next existential crisis.