In the majestic hallways of existence, where yoga mats lie like a tapestry of ennui, we ask: If one meditates in the forest and no one's around, does it still think it's enlightened?
Here, beneath the weighty chandeliers of unpaid introspection, spiritual decoherence plays hide and seek. It vanishes in clouds of sage smoke, reappearing as a Snapchat filter over a sunset.
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And as we traverse these hallowed halls lined with the relics of spiritual capitalism, remember:
True wisdom is knowing which Instagram filter to apply.