Melm!
Melm is not to be explained, or understood, or groked.
Melm is to be experienced.
In a world where reality feels increasingly oppresive, Melm is not just surreality, it’s unreality.
You read Dune Messiah? Remember Bijaz the dwarf, and his Zensunni prattle?
Melm.
Melm is the sound of one squid clapping in a forest where nobody’s listening.
Melm is the color of pi.
Melm is the least lonely number that you’ve ever heard, because Melm has friends everywhere.
Sounds like Melm is just chaos, right? But no. Not all chaos is melm. Melm is chaotic good.
Melm is the random act of kindness that everybody remembers differently.
Melm is when you’re on a long road trip, and you see a highway sign with two town names on it, and your brain interprets them as a person’s name, and you start wondering who that person is, and the next thing you know you’ve got a 300 page novel written in your head and completely forgot it all started with a highway sign.
Melm is when you realize the entirety of the nobility of what we call the Middle Ages were members of an Arthurian Romance Re-enactment Cult.
Melm is the profound truth you find in the random graffiti someone spray-painted three weeks ago that you just can’t get out of your head.
Melm is.
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