Abyss | Ancient Fractal Octopus | Conflagration | Ghosts are Memories | Godself | Memories are Ghosts | Memory | Mind Geography | Puncture | Stasis | The Void | Vision Synesthesia Death | White
I assumed it would be a controlled burn. Like lighting brush to clear the unseen landscape beneath. I was wrong. It became an enveloping conflagration, a self-sustaining immolation, multiple worms of combustion in multiple routes of down and in and through and up and out instead of skating above, an undulating subterranean fire leaving in its wake not a broad plain of healthy soil but perpetually smoldering cavities and abscesses in charred bricked earth. Through a connection irrational and narcisistic but migraine white in the instantness of its truth and searing awareness, I'm calm and see a charred, ancient octopus, biofractally withered, in the void between the abysses, of god in that it exists, of death in its eternal stasis.