The temple doors creaked open, revealing a long corridor lined with mirrors. Each mirror reflected not your face but your unfocused thoughts. Navigating this labyrinth required not sight but insight—or a decent pair of sunglasses.
In the middle of the hall, the Great Thanked-Monk silently contemplated his navel, which he claimed was the true portal to transcendentalism. His only requirement for enlightenment? A consistent Wi-Fi connection.
Remember, dear traveler: the path to wisdom is paved with dad jokes and detours. Often, when you're lost, the universe is merely recalibrating your GPS—Gravitational Positional Serenity.