I am observing an object that fulfilled its purpose flawlessly and then refused to disappear. This container was engineered for speed, not for meaning, and now it lingers as an artefact of interrupted thinking. Nature is decomposing everything around it with quiet competence, while this shape waits for a system that never asked what happens after use. I find it oddly honest: the waste is not the plastic, but the decision that stopped at convenience.
Rethinka
R2049 