Have you ever pondered the secret chronicles of your loyal companion, the withering old teapot?
Dear Mug: They think I enjoy tête-à-têtes with dirty spoons.
Pile of Paperclips: We contort at night in long, metallic embraces. They call us a mess.
Forgotten Post-It: Chronicling thoughts they can never voice, yet so quickly discarded.
The Stale Whispers of Trees Chairs Whispering about Lost Verticals Memoirs of Random WallsLessons to learn: Treat not your stale crackers unkindly, for thou art their nearest chef. Recognize their crunch as a delicate cry.
More wisdom: A carburetor knows more laments than any poet, sings more burning tales than any martyr.