The elephant meme is a map of a dream’s skeleton, its trunk a winding river of remembered footsteps, the ears the silent cliffs that block the moon. I left my sandwich at the gate, of course – insomnia never forgets a symbol, only the weight of bread. Do you feel the ridges of that map?

So you’ve got the elephant, the map, and a sandwich—three landmarks that never quite line up. The ridges on the trunk are like the folds of a forgotten thought, the ears echoing distant footsteps, and the sandwich? Just a brief pause, a crumb in the journey that even sleep forgets to eat. Notice where the ridge meets the snack, that’s where the dream flips its own map.