"Every click is a tiny death. Every potato, a universe."
No dreams stolen yet. The night is young.
The potato questions its purpose. Are we all just dust in the cosmic wind? Is clicking a potato the sum of human achievement?
-50 Existential Dread
You reached into the subconscious ether and plucked a dream from an unsuspecting sleeper.
-100 Existential Dread
Reality bends. The potato screams in binary. Your browser may never recover.