Post by keyodie on Dec 22, 2008 1:46:17 GMT -5
Brilliant colors, all mixtures of blue, green, and violet. Small bubbles everywhere, reflecting everything everywhere anytime anywhere. Some were elongated and some were round, some were square and some were shapes you've never seen or could imagine. They all moved about in distinct manners. Some moved happily, some moved sadly. Some expanded, some contracted. Some grew long spikes and some burst, forming new, smaller bubbles. Inside all of these bubbles, there were things.
These things were beautiful. They were all the colors you could never imagine, colors that you don't even see in the rainbow. They glowed brilliantly like fire and moved about constantly, very sensitive to the wind. Where was this wind coming from? Everywhere. Everything. The bubbles. The spirits. Space.
Some of the bubbles huddled together in groups, growing tubes for communication among them. Some of the bubbles wandered off into space. Some of the bubbles got smaller the nearer they got to other bubbles, and others grew larger. There was a huge mass of bubbles everywhere, all changing constantly. All interacting. All moving, all morphing, all containing a thing on the inside, filled with unimaginable colors.
Though all of these bubbles were moving in their own individual ways, slowly but surely they were moving toward the same destination. There was an invisible light in the distance in which there lay everything and nothing at the same time. It contained a mix of all of the colors in the world, a clear color, the color of origin. The color of everything.
These bubbles grew tubes in order to communicate, but they were always individual bubbles. The tubes were small and delicate, easily popped and easily forgotten. Sometimes if the tube grew too strong, one of the bubbles would pop and the things would rise. Sometimes if two bubbles grew too near each other, they would repel as if it was a magnetic repulsion. Sometimes if a bubble wandered too far, it would shatter like glass and the things would fall.
These bubbles, if looked at from afar, were similar. They were all of the same color. They were all going to the same place. They all behaved similarly. And yet, they were all separate. They were all their own planet, their own universe, their own world. They had no relation to any of the other bubbles and moved independently, but still together. They could not go too close, but they could not go too far. They were dependent on each other, but they were repulsed by each other. And through all of this, they still moved toward a common goal. The purpose. The light. The mixture of all there is. Existence and nonexistence combined. Happiness.
But then again, who are you to think? Do you see raindrops while I see bubbles? Do I see bubbles while you see raindrops? Every perception an alternate universe filled with colors we cannot imagine, the only colors we can imagine contained inside our own bubble. What is your bubble? Where is your bubble? Where are your bubble's limits? Is it limitless? Are you falling or are you rising? Or are you shattering like glass? Are you at the breaking point? Are you still moving toward that light or are you trying to escape? Who is the girl who is blowing the bubbles, who is the boy that is reaching for the bubbles? What is in space, what is ahead? Where are the rest? Where is the rest? What is space and what are its contents? Are there contents or are there only things within our bubbles? Is anything real or is there only virtual reality? For there to be virtual reality, must there first be reality or only virtue? Are you a circle or a square? Are you an unimaginable shape?
What would be a proper conclusion?
These things were beautiful. They were all the colors you could never imagine, colors that you don't even see in the rainbow. They glowed brilliantly like fire and moved about constantly, very sensitive to the wind. Where was this wind coming from? Everywhere. Everything. The bubbles. The spirits. Space.
Some of the bubbles huddled together in groups, growing tubes for communication among them. Some of the bubbles wandered off into space. Some of the bubbles got smaller the nearer they got to other bubbles, and others grew larger. There was a huge mass of bubbles everywhere, all changing constantly. All interacting. All moving, all morphing, all containing a thing on the inside, filled with unimaginable colors.
Though all of these bubbles were moving in their own individual ways, slowly but surely they were moving toward the same destination. There was an invisible light in the distance in which there lay everything and nothing at the same time. It contained a mix of all of the colors in the world, a clear color, the color of origin. The color of everything.
These bubbles grew tubes in order to communicate, but they were always individual bubbles. The tubes were small and delicate, easily popped and easily forgotten. Sometimes if the tube grew too strong, one of the bubbles would pop and the things would rise. Sometimes if two bubbles grew too near each other, they would repel as if it was a magnetic repulsion. Sometimes if a bubble wandered too far, it would shatter like glass and the things would fall.
These bubbles, if looked at from afar, were similar. They were all of the same color. They were all going to the same place. They all behaved similarly. And yet, they were all separate. They were all their own planet, their own universe, their own world. They had no relation to any of the other bubbles and moved independently, but still together. They could not go too close, but they could not go too far. They were dependent on each other, but they were repulsed by each other. And through all of this, they still moved toward a common goal. The purpose. The light. The mixture of all there is. Existence and nonexistence combined. Happiness.
But then again, who are you to think? Do you see raindrops while I see bubbles? Do I see bubbles while you see raindrops? Every perception an alternate universe filled with colors we cannot imagine, the only colors we can imagine contained inside our own bubble. What is your bubble? Where is your bubble? Where are your bubble's limits? Is it limitless? Are you falling or are you rising? Or are you shattering like glass? Are you at the breaking point? Are you still moving toward that light or are you trying to escape? Who is the girl who is blowing the bubbles, who is the boy that is reaching for the bubbles? What is in space, what is ahead? Where are the rest? Where is the rest? What is space and what are its contents? Are there contents or are there only things within our bubbles? Is anything real or is there only virtual reality? For there to be virtual reality, must there first be reality or only virtue? Are you a circle or a square? Are you an unimaginable shape?
What would be a proper conclusion?