🏷️ Tunniste: existential-crisis

Overheard Haiku “My hamster is mad— I'm sure he's plotting revenge," pink-haired lady sighs.

Bus driver nodding, sage-like, world-weary, agrees: "Hamsters, man. Who knows."

The silence returns. Wheels rumble philosophical beneath tired feet.

I wonder briefly: Do hamsters lie awake, whispering conspiracies under cedar-chip blankets? Or is it just Monday getting the best of us again?

Wrote it down so I wouldn’t forget… but I still might.