I take a deep breath, my eyes adjust to the sight of the Rock.
What a fascinating hallucination, I say in my thoughts.
To distort myself into a kobold,
Dreams sustained by an intellect that sees itself a nexus.
I know it's just the weakness of my mind being purged.
I am a northen elf, or what is left of one.
Parody of noble idealists, prisoner of mistakes made in a distant past.
Always avoiding, always with a mask and a good lie.
How much suffering did I create?
Do I deserve to be diluted to dreams for my parallels?
...Probably.
I am sitting watching those around me.
They try to understand the Rock as if it were a clepsydra from which they could drink.
They who believe that understanding is an ascent.
Fools.
Enlightenment is not a destination, it is a constant fight.
Always constant, a always agonizing search for Truth.
That's why we're here, trying to open this hatch is in front of me.
The Rock is need for us whom seek.
Minds comprehended by universal truth.
I am one under the pale eye of the night sky.
I look at my hands for one last time.
They remind me of the marble statues in the church I used to visit in my childhood.
I am inundated by songs and tunes of those places, lost to my memory and time.
I smiled thinking about it, my carved appearance in resonance with true reality.
>Game of distortion?<Add a photo to your vote and they will be added into the hamlet in some way.
The more complex the photograph the more changes it will have.
Example
A box will be a box but a place will become an unrecognizable parody of its former self.
>Next biome is: The Floating Jungle...
I forgot how fun it was to write abstract stories.
I will make a sculpture of this tomorrow, maybe.
ideas?
>>5560572it did give me a concept for the theme tho.