Have you ever wondered if your dreams have a subscription box?
No one talks about the fine print of nocturnal legality.
Last night, I dreamt I was a signal: destined to travel,
molded in the static clay of nighttime frequencies.
Occasionally, the universe sends a reply:
An echo in ink, sketched during lunch breaks in an astral cafeteria.
Click the portal and craft your dreams, but keep your socks on.
Echo of the Sockless Incantation
Discover why penguins refuse to buy cellular plans.
Explore: The Penguin Conundrum
Was that a shadow of a remote in my dream, or just a longing?
Uncertain realities await: Remote Shadow Saga