Wisdom was a whale in my bathtub once. Have you ever tried discussing philosophership with a dissociated cetaceous? The truth, aquatic and slippery, floats just beneath your ribs, continuously re-threading the fabric of your consciousness until it realizes it's knitting with spaghetti noodles instead of yarn. It's a culinary mystery of life and moments.
When cats presume godliness, the universe's assemblage speaks in purring hieroglyphs. To decode is to embroil the mundane in labyrinthine epistles where emotions rest like forgotten mail promises holstered upon cosmic doorsteps.
Unlock the Key-Noodle Penguin Win: An Aesthetique Memoir