[Open] Like a particular shade of blue
Who: Vincent Nightray boat-lights and anyone else who wants to be trolled?
Where: On the roof of some random building in Somni
Style: Any~ <3
Status: Open
Wasn't this amusing, watching them mill about below like this. Like little ants making war upon the ground. He supposed that they could very well be ants -- it was hard to tell at times, where hallucinations ended and reality began -- and who could note the difference, really?
The real difference between hallucinations and reality, as far as he was concerned, was belief. One would simply have to believe in a dream for it to become real. After all, what is reality in a dream but a dream of a reality in itself? In that case, either of which you chose to believe in became the reality, and what were dreams but a tool to escape what we call reality? And so, following that string of logic, one would choose the dream rather than the dream within a dream, and such a reality could be wrought from bare choice alone.
It wasn't like him to wax philosophical at all. He put a finger to his lips.
It wasn't like him at all.
"Wouldn't it be funny," he mused aloud, "Wouldn't it be funny, if Somarium were to crumble away into the wind, because we no longer believed in it?"
Where: On the roof of some random building in Somni
Style: Any~ <3
Status: Open
Wasn't this amusing, watching them mill about below like this. Like little ants making war upon the ground. He supposed that they could very well be ants -- it was hard to tell at times, where hallucinations ended and reality began -- and who could note the difference, really?
The real difference between hallucinations and reality, as far as he was concerned, was belief. One would simply have to believe in a dream for it to become real. After all, what is reality in a dream but a dream of a reality in itself? In that case, either of which you chose to believe in became the reality, and what were dreams but a tool to escape what we call reality? And so, following that string of logic, one would choose the dream rather than the dream within a dream, and such a reality could be wrought from bare choice alone.
It wasn't like him to wax philosophical at all. He put a finger to his lips.
It wasn't like him at all.
"Wouldn't it be funny," he mused aloud, "Wouldn't it be funny, if Somarium were to crumble away into the wind, because we no longer believed in it?"