Absurdism Period. 2023 November #011. In the heart of oddity, an orchard blooms, epochs of absurdity waving in the wind. Macaroni dances with peaches, a tango twirling in the twilight. Oranges peel themselves, baring zesty souls to the sighing sky. S, the serpent letter, hisses in the grass, whispering secrets to the roots. Beneath fallen leaves lie centuries, crumbled and forgotten, feeding futures yet to grow. The seeds of nonsense sprout in rich soil of logic-defying loam. Peaches are planets in a microcosmic universe, orbiting an unseen sun. Oranges hang heavy, gravity-defying globes in this strange space-time. Macaroni marches on, a pasta procession under a starchy moon. In absurdity we find truth, surrealism is the mirror held to reality's face. Each fruit bears witness to the bizarre beauty of existence. Within the Orchard of Absurd Epochs, time and sense are but seeds in the wind.
