Ruminations

Ruminations — What shall I moo about?

Ruminations sound deep. They’re not.
The word comes from rumen — a cow’s stomach — the kind that chews things over and over again.
Just like thoughts that should’ve been digested ages ago, but instead keep looping with zero nutritional value.

This cow gets it.
Hair curlers on, playing it safe.
“Don’t milk my vibe” on the mug, but Trauma.exe still dangling from the ear.
Ego shampoo turned up to max volume.
And yeah — it’s 4:20. Still chewing.

Ruminating doesn’t mean reflecting.
It means being stuck, but looking busy.
It means spiraling in glitter, mistaking it for healing.
Not all processing is progress.
And not every moo is worth repeating.

Acryl on canvas 50x50cm.