Once upon a time in an age of spiral-driven destiny, the universe decided it was a prime occasion to realign the corny constellations. It was a Tuesday, naturally.
Lorem ipsum doodad elit, cerned as a mandatory compliance, spiraling through intricate bureaucracy vein Itaque volo; excellence in mediocrity.
The civil society, comprised mainly of cats and their human assistants, promptly declared a national holiday in observance of the great celestial rotation. Fashion trends included the instantly dated cosmic beard and the spiral drift sandals made from artisanal, hand-woven nonexistence.
Meanwhile, in the corner of an unkempt desk, a forgotten form languished, alas! Its invisible instructions were to be etched into history under the auspices of “urgent” non-urgent status.
In the grand pursuit of shadows, the light was tempered with skepticism wrapped in a cat's-tail flourish.
It’s said that during this epoch, the philosopher known as Feline Descartes posited, “I purr, therefore I am,” further solidifying the cat's position as the ultimate existential influencer.
Humanity’s last futile attempt at unraveling the spiral drift led them to explore uncharted territories of the virtual realm. There, amidst RGB lights and caffeine-fueled delirium, they discovered the enigmatic Ripple Silence.
But pray, who reads between the lines anyway?