The Fleeting Science of Fleeting Thought

Is the chicken but a precursor to the egg, or is the egg always last in line?

Irony: Truly, it is less a stance and more a mandatory posture in asymptomatic wit.

As the stars quietly mock our aspirations, I remain convinced that my breakfast cereal holds the secrets to all conundrums unfathomable—if only those secrets weren't caramel-flavored transient truths.

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One must question not how fast the rabbit court resolves but rather why the hat desired a rabbit in such times.

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There's a peculiar solace in knowing that tomorrow's existential crisis has already booked a return ticket. Hence, I leisurely embrace my paradoxical reality.

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