Silence is the absence of noise, they said, but in the absence, I heard everything. Like a bad soap opera, the plot twists of existence unravel slowly.
Did the cat just talk? No, it was just the neighbor's existential crisis wispering through the walls during the third rerun of last Tuesday's pizza.
Dreams about avocados selling insurance, and suddenly—poof!—it all makes sense. Or not.
She walked into the room, or did she tumble? A question for the ages, similarly pondered alongside Schrödinger's synchronized cat dance. Is this a void? A silent void? A void of silent screams? Or maybe just the DMV but in a void and silent and screamy.
Laughter echoed in the darkness, bouncing off unseen walls. What if the walls were mirrors? Then we'd be facing ourselves. Or facing the future. Or facing off... against something we can't quite remember. Isn't that just like wearing two left shoes? And speaking of boots, why is Yoda in a tree?
Click here to fill the void. Or here to discover absurd mushrooms.
"Why?" she asked, inquiring about the enigmatic banana phenomenon. The cosmic fruit that peels its mysteries only to reveal more mysteries. It's a circle, ladies and gentlemen, a circle of life. Or perhaps a tragic ellipse.