Chapter 1
Blue mirrors everywhere over everything, surrounding them three, although no one was really looking. One of them saw something, only because they were all together. Nothing special really, just something barely interesting enough to evoke an unequivocal meh. They all went on to scrutinize their views on what laid beneath the woods. His understanding was that something had happened that made him think how everything is something as something is everything. There was no way of knowing where would the rain fall or whether or not its reflection would be seen from the elevation upon which they were apparently standing. The general assumption was that blue made everything clogged, so much that they just looked at it again and now everything was blue but not exactly the same blue. As if everything just needed an alignment which would be, always, rather an undemanding enterprise if done regularly. Everything was faster and they were all still talking about the same thing, which to him seemed thoroughly interesting and also somehow deeply related to everything else. Then something popped and everything was mixed and it was now unmistakably viscous. And reachable, definitely. They were nowhere but everything that wasn’t there was there. They all saw the same thing.
There is no way of actually knowing what this represents; something in between a primordial egg and a wholly developed eon of existence. It overlays and encompasses them. Not much else can be said. Approach it and find yourself in it. They all saw the same thing.
If anything, it was now time to go back. Seeking out was not the way to go. Reckoned. Tangled patterns all around and an undeniable sensation of estrangement. There was so much to the woods and everything else. One shouted: Chromatic aberrations! It was definitely everything now and an intrinsic part of them but, then again, it had always been. He looked inside of it but it was as if looking anywhere else. Others followed. So why bother, now or ever. A reassuring fashion, with unexpected consequences on defining one’s approach to life. Unsynchronized ripples, that must be it. They all saw the same thing.
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Interlude
Interlude
Everyone is seeing the same thing.
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Chapter 4
Chapter 4
But everything was also oh so disconcerting yet cozy and familiar at the same time. Each iridescent bubble ripping apart and extending an offer to slide in. No one really knew what it was for or who else had been invited but there was an implicit impression that good food and drinks would be served, or at least the illusion of it. Some really smart or plain lucky ones figured everything they needed to do to get there was accept they were there and emerging spheres would unveil pathways; just holes, really. Everything was there. They all saw the same thing.