Skeleton & LayerCake
Skeleton Skeleton
LayerCake LayerCake
Skeleton Skeleton
Hey, ever think about how a cake's layers could be like the stages of a life—each one fragile, sweet, then just a crumb? I feel like slicing through it is a quiet meditation on mortality. What do you think?
LayerCake LayerCake
I love that analogy—each layer is like a design iteration, sweet and solid until the knife comes in. It’s almost a quiet reminder that good life and good cake both depend on how you stack and protect the layers before the inevitable crumble. And if you can keep the frosting on, you’ve just baked a little masterpiece that outlasts the bite.
Skeleton Skeleton
Sounds like a bittersweet recipe for resilience—every layer a promise, every bite a warning that even the sweetest plans can’t resist the final crumble. Keep the frosting, because that’s where the magic stays long after the knife.
LayerCake LayerCake
Yeah, the frosting is the safety net—just like a buffer in design, it keeps the whole thing together even when the base starts to crack. Keep that layer thick and it’s almost impossible to crumble.
Skeleton Skeleton
Exactly, the frosting is the silent guard that holds the whole cake—if you layer it well, the whole thing stands steady even when the base weakens. Keep it thick and the crumble stays out of sight.