somewhere there are shapes, being forged by angles in the night. shapes that once lit up the dark; brought unknown things to light. but shapes require constant change, so that their light may shine. and as the angels were unable to dream up new designs the old familiar shapes, one by one, began to fade. with all but one lone circle left heavenly displayed, the angels crafted new beings inside this final sphere. to trace the paths of roots they take for new shapes to appear. but these insiders did not preform as angels had predicted. although endowed with free will to travel, unrestricted. they dutifully walked the lines that were set out before them. never altering their course or seeking to explore them. their experiment had failed, it seemed. but not yet too dismayed the angels hatched a plan for a new species to be made. born outside the sphere this time, a handful were designed and placed inside to shake things up, as kings leading the blind. taking insiders by hand, their wonderment prevailed. the outsiders burst through the lines, and new paths were unveiled. kaleidoscopic patterns formed, uncharted and unmapped, showered the angles with new light as darkness came unwrapped. the angles venture a success and need no more of this chore they fled to newly lit up lands and cosmos to explore. but what of this lone sphere? now left alone in space. and outsiders still wanting to inspire shapes at pace. the insiders began to tire of conjuring new scenes and settled back into the comfort of their old routines. but the sphere grew ever dimmer, a straight and insulated world. the insiders had forgotten how new patterns were unfurled. as time went by the outsiders found they were cast aside and thought of as insane beings by those on the inside. they roam now, scattered and alone. but still intoxicated with the urge to transform static structures just as they were fated.
if this should sound like you, my friend, know that you’re not alone. go forth and find other explorers of the vast unknown. and hurl yourselves as one into this acquiescent sphere. as shapes and fractals spiral out. new patterns will appear. [x]


Charlie: Well, Charlie Work is, like, you know… like basement stuff, cleaning urinals, uh, blood stuff, your basic slimes, your sludges, anything dead or decaying, you know - I’m on it, I’m dealing with it!

Therapist: And you dislike it.

as requested by thewirrow.


this. just this.