Truth, like light through a prism, is ever-shifting—revealed only in fragments and reflections.

A simple fucking chair.

A ring that is not a ring.

Me staring into the abyss, the abyss staring back.

A golf ball in a golf course full of flowers and ready to be hit.

Me: I want PEACE in the world. I want PEACE in the world. I want PEACE in the world.

The McChair—designed for those who shit everytime they sit

Not the moon gatekeeping its full potential.

Just a shiny shape thingy. something special