You know, it’s funny how ideas just kind of weather away, buried under the weight of daily chaos. Like that time I thought about creating a library for lost socks... only to realize nobody cared.
I recently found this crumpled note: “The trees sang once, though we hesitated in addressing them.” What could that even mean? Sounds like something out of a childhood reverie, but did I write it? Did I dream it on a Tuesday afternoon?
Last week I stumbled upon a pulsating light beneath my kitchen sink. Was it an alien? Or simply the remnants of a snack gone bad? Either way, it felt like a portal, or perhaps more a prison for probability.
What’s the most inconsequential thought you’ve had lately? I mean, seriously, it might be a portal to something grand. For instance, “What if glasses were actually bottled oxygen?”
Or perhaps you feel like discussing faux fruit and their existential crises? Join me. Oh, the quirk of it all... Follow for footnotes.