(no subject)
Something emerged. Something invisible. Something joyful and selfish and marvelous. Something as intangible as an idea, which is exactly what it was. Wild ideas. What it had, right now, was memories and needs. It remembered life; it needed people. It rose against the stars, changing shape, coiling like smoke. There were lights on the horizon. It liked lights. It regarded them for a few seconds and then, like an invisible arrow, extended itself towards the city.
Reality is a curve. That is not the problem. The problem is that there is not as much as there should be. Probably nine tenths of all the original reality created lies outside the multiverse, and since the multiverse by definition includes absolutely everything that is anything, this puts a bit of a strain on things.
Outisde the boundaries of the universe lie the raw realities, the things that could have been, the things that might have been, those that never were, the wild ideas- all being created and uncreated chaotically like elements in fermenting supernovas. Just occasionally, where the walls of the worlds have worn a bit thin, they can leak in. And reality leaks out.
The effect is like one of those deep-sea geysers of hot water around which strange submarine creatures find enough warmth and food to make a brief, tiny oasis of existence in an environment where there shouldn't be any existence at all.
The mass of ideas leaked innocently and joyfully into the city.
Reality leaked out. And was found. For there are those other ideas outside, whose ability to sniff out tiny frail conglormerations of the real made the thing with the sharks and the trace of blood seem very boring indeed.
The unimaginable and surreal took its form.
...Hello there.
Reality is a curve. That is not the problem. The problem is that there is not as much as there should be. Probably nine tenths of all the original reality created lies outside the multiverse, and since the multiverse by definition includes absolutely everything that is anything, this puts a bit of a strain on things.
Outisde the boundaries of the universe lie the raw realities, the things that could have been, the things that might have been, those that never were, the wild ideas- all being created and uncreated chaotically like elements in fermenting supernovas. Just occasionally, where the walls of the worlds have worn a bit thin, they can leak in. And reality leaks out.
The effect is like one of those deep-sea geysers of hot water around which strange submarine creatures find enough warmth and food to make a brief, tiny oasis of existence in an environment where there shouldn't be any existence at all.
The mass of ideas leaked innocently and joyfully into the city.
Reality leaked out. And was found. For there are those other ideas outside, whose ability to sniff out tiny frail conglormerations of the real made the thing with the sharks and the trace of blood seem very boring indeed.
The unimaginable and surreal took its form.
...Hello there.