Vinz didn't really mean for the godmask to happen. There was a small bug in the simulation that imparted a tiny bit of force when he moved the typically intangible, invisible godhead. The idea was that he should be able to poke his head into the sim and look around to see how the population is doing without being detected. But with the bug, he'd mess with the atmosphere just a little as he floated around his sandbox world. The resulting vapors made for a colorful burst of color and cloud that trailed behind him. He didn't even notice it at first, a god rarely needs to turn around to look back. It wasn't until he began seeing the rainbow cloud helm appear in artwork throughout the various cultures of the population. Seeing the same shape represented so frequently piqued his curiosity, and he soon realized they were painting the evidence of his observation. While they didn't have any real clue about their simulated nature, the concept of a creator observing them was pretty widespread, leading to the name "godmask". At that point, he couldn't just fix the bug without causing cultural shock. He decided to just let it become a part of this simulation. The population got to know when he was looking, for better and for worse. Of course, he gave himself a toggle the fix so he could sneak peeks unseen, but he found very little motivation to use it. He loved the way they'd smile and wave as he turned his gaze to them, and enjoyed seeing all the wild ways their imaginations gave order to his appearance.
Cracking keys in the morning, suddenly it's night. Code is compiling but it doesn't run right. There's a bug in the fix for the bug that we nixed, and the bits are flipping out when they get written to disk. Functions are funky, server status sporadic. The warning dialogs are downright polychromatic. While I'm at it, I might have had too many caffeines. Because I can't figure out what this math symbol means? In fact, the syntax seems to be a little blurred. I don't think these letters really spell any known words in any language I've used, and I'm even more confused 'cause I was the one who wrote this script a little bit before noon. Are those letters on the move? Looks like they're trading places binary square dances throughout my whitespaces. Do you think if I let them, they'll find the right location and fix the glitch on their own without further manipulation? Seems more likely that I need to check my head. I better save and shutdown, bumble away to bed. Hard crash into the covers, but you know it isn't fair because that's about the time I finally diagnose the error.
I will rise up, lift my eyes up, just let me finish off a large size cup. Once it's dried up, I'll be fired up, but without my go juice, I'm feeling tied up. Need to break free, I should take these three shots of espresso then maybe get some green tea, refill my coffee so I can burn the foggy morning right off me. I didn't sleep last night, it'll be alright, but clear the way to the pot or there might be a fight. I'm not tryin' to incite, I'm just wound too tight, I need caffeine now, not later, I mean forthright! Pass the sugar and cream, turn on the latte machine let's do it up fancy with a little bit of steam, some fresh ground beans, and water sounds mean we're about to get down with the caffeine dream.
Some machines make machines, other machines destroy them. Some machines recycle, others simply move the trash that annoys them. Some machines talk to each other, some don't know how to speak. Some machines are built to last, and some won't make it through the week. Some machines are made with plastic, others are made of rubber and metal. Some have wheels and gears and treads and a few machines even have pedals. But to know these classifications is not permission to be mean. Just have consideration when you build your next machine.
Timothy had read the websites, watched the videos, and heard his cousin Marcus tell him all about the colorbugs, but it was still hard to see the brown, lumpy cocoons as anything more than dirt. According to the guides, his brood should have begun to hatch as soon as a few days ago, but it could be another whole week before the window closed for the season. The anticipation was eating him up inside. Sometimes he'd stare at the terrarium for so long he'd think he saw a cocoon wiggle a little bit, but he wasn't convinced his mind wasn't just making things up out of boredom. He almost didn't notice the soft scratching noises as he lie in bed one morning. A flash of color in the corner of his sleepy eyes sent a thrilling jolt through his system, and he was out of bed before he knew it. The brood was hatching! There was a blue one, and two yellows already, and over there was an orange and a green poking out. It was finally happening. Months of waiting, checking humidity and temperature, and preparing for disappointment all gave way to a flood of excitement, color, and vindication. Wanting to fully immerse himself in the moment, Timothy opened the terrarium and let the colorbugs spill out into the room. More and more cocoons were splitting open, and soon the air was full of fluttering, colorful wings. One blissful moment later, the advice he'd read came ringing back in his ears. After months of growing and changing, these colorbugs were ready to eat, and Timothy couldn't let them get accustomed to eating indoors or they'd never survive. With a bittersweet, responsible sigh, Timothy opened the window and let his new flock take to the wind. He tried his best to look at each and every one, while wishing them all good luck and telling them to stay safe. The flying confetti of colorbugs caught the attention of neighbors, and apparently Timothy's mom, who appeared in the doorway to his room. "Sweetie, your colorbugs hatched. How wonderful! They are so pretty, and I bet they were happy to have someone like you take care of them while they got ready for the world." Timothy nodded, but his gaze remained locked on the sky out his window. "Are you OK, Timothy? Letting them go was hard, but it was the right thing to do. I'm proud of you." Timothy turned with a hopeful smile. "Oh, I know mom. The whole point was to let them live. But if I can talk Charlie and Tabitha into nursing a brood, and we all do another one next year too, soon there will be enough colorbugs for a wild population. Then the whole neighborhood gets to watch them hatch every year. Can you imagine, all that color fluttering up from the fields and the trees?"
Save the bickering over additive or subtractive, bringing colors together is something I find attractive. Sometimes you can't know a color's character all alone, you find its beauty when you set it next to another tone. Or a blend, or a pattern, or a subtle gradient, a transition in composition makes loving it from hating it. So tell your blues to dance with oranges, greens and yellows too tell red to get in bed with gold and certain purple shades and hues. Our eyes were built to take it all, and our minds love to obsess over the ways the wavelengths play with the curves that they caress. So don't starve your photoreceptors, let them do their duty, tinting your reality to bring out spectral beauty.
Sometimes when I look up at the stars in the night sky, I try to wrap my tiny brain around what's before my eye. How big is the space between my pupils and the stars? What is the shape of the beam of light travelling so far? And after such long and cold journey through the black, do these photons like my iris, or is there something that it lacks? Would they have liked to land upon a flower or a tree? I guess I ought to thank them, for winding up at me.
There generally isn't water in space. It's all collected into planets, or frozen into ice. You have to have land to have water, for the most part. Which is why Lt. Garza almost dropped her caffie when she saw something swim past the starboard viewing bay. She raced to the control deck and brought up the external cams. Sure enough, there was a whole pod of cnidarian creatures swimming alongside the ship. She didn't understand what they were swimming in, but they were clearly pulsating their bodies against something that allowed them to dance and turn about as they floated in the black. They didn't stay too long, the ship's speed seemed to wear them out. Garza spent a few hours checking the Encyclopedia Galactica, but couldn't find any entry on swimming space creatures. She uploaded her data to the unfathomably large category "unidentified encounters", and sighed. Why couldn't the universe grant her enough time to see and learn about all these wonders?
We knew we would go far, and we knew we'd get there quick, but exactly where, and exactly when, was difficult to pick. The superluminal drive was at the very edge of comprehension and running the calculations left engineers with apprehensions. Nonetheless Captain Ling fired up the engines with a shout, but as the ship tore through space, the heavens started spilling out. Some cosmic fabric keeping energy low and matter sparse was unraveling, and laying our understanding as mere farce. We know it's coming toward us, but we don't know quite how soon. It's beautiful, but will it be a paradise, or doom?
Don't forget to stop and smell the flowers this crisis is a matter of days and hours. It's not forever, and yeah, it's scary but non-stop fear will leave you too wary. You don't need to stand next to anyone to take in some peace from a setting sun. A book is a single player adventure in text and it can be good for your head to change context. I'm not advocating ignorance, keep yourself informed! But once you tend to that, and to keeping yourself warm press pause on the panic, it'll be there when you get back. Take a couple hours and allow yourself to kick back. Take a few deep breaths, squeeze in a couple naps. Go from headlines to punchlines and find a couple laughs. There's a couple kinds of sick right now being spread one attacks the lungs, the other sets up in your head.
Every time a key is hit, it sends a signal to a bit that maps to a spot in memory until the app is quit. And if it's the kind of data you will want to call back later it's recorded in special order as part of something greater. There are pointers to addresses on a drive inside the tower so you can find the fiddly bits without searching for hours. It's like a tree in binary, forks, splits and cascades, reading bits off the top to determine the right ways to chart the disc quick and recall the information so the user isn't waiting to fulfill their imagination.
When I type this missive, some wires start to sing, some lights start to flicker to show the data on my screen. When I click submit, it casts some frequencies in special patterns in to routers, over land and under seas. In this way the things I say reach round the world wide, while I stay comfy in my seat, tucked away inside.
When the night is over and I surrender my last snore, before I start the day, I have to go to war. It's a judo match on my mattress every morning, because my blankets like to pin me down with no warning. I kick off the corner so I can get a foot free and I pull up the pillow tucked under my knee, I toss to the left but then I get wrapped up by a sheet hiding in the mix so my other foot is stuck. The mind games begin to interfere with my mission, pillow looking soft and warm, beckoning submission, just a minute or 10 more of sleep couldn't hurt.. alarm clock stops the seduction with a red alert! Twisting and tussling, building up the motivation to introduce between me and the covers some separation. Stressing over all the stuff that I have to do today, but staying in bed only keeps it that way.
Waves on top of currents on top of eddies on top of tides the ocean is a commotion where many things reside. The swimmers near the surface can't make out with their eyes the things deep down below where monsters like to hide/ And giant jellyfish, and slippery eel, and fish outfit with fur, anenomes with aura, top dollar bottom feeders finding pearls. All making their own niche among the ebb and within the flow, making life spectacular in the murky depths below.
Scattered against matter that ends up in the way the frequencies that we perceive every single day all emit from one well lit churning burning fire ball. Without it's fury I am worried we wouldn't see at all. So every night when it sinks down below the horizon I like to watch to make sure I have my eyes on the last rays of illumination as they disappear to catch a few more colors before the dark gets near. The stars try their hardest to brighten up the black and the moon glows too when it doesn't turn its back. But in the shadow of the planet, I only see shades of the hues I make use of in wonderful ways. So I bathe in LCD beams and dream through RGB nights until the window gleams with full spectrum sunlight.
Softly swirling, shimmer and shine. Crystals with structure sublime. Harder than ice or rock or steel, diamond rain is quite surreal. When it falls, take cover quick, but stay around in case it sticks. Don't try to catch one on your tongue, just fill your pockets, when it's done.
It's a simple evolution to prepare a quick solution, just mix the bases with reagents to reach the right dilution. Mix or stir or shake, watch reactions take, and track the stats with graphs to ensure there's no mistake. You might need a special tool, or a place for it to cool, and ventilation at every station to follow safety rules. Before you reap your treasure, be sure to take a measure, dispense the dose you know the most and drip a drop of pleasure.
I give my PC numbers, and it makes a fractal flame which I render to an image and upload to a mainframe where computers bicker over what it is using machine brains and they try to reproduce it in a style that's not the same. I download the result, and open it with another tool, where I can tweak the colors and size to make it something cool. When I think I've found the sweet spot, I ask Abby to review. And if she likes it I upload it and share it with all of you.
It's been a while out here, floating in the black, but gravity has done its trick, and finally brought me back. Atmosphere below me, even further down there's ground, surely storms, maybe monsters, wonders waiting to be found. When the air starts to thicken, my chute grabs on to some sky. So as I drop in to this world, I go on a gentle glide. Hopes and dreams distilling in to practical details, lungs filling with potential, as I finally inhale.
Think big, call it small, then try to think bigger still, think thoughts so large they can't help but spill out into the world and leave it tinted a new color cause we can paint this planet if we work together. My pockets are close to empty but I have a couple pounds of thoughts and a storage unit where I fill up box after box and a five dollar lock to make it look safe, I'm not really paying for protection, just need the space because my head filled up when I was like 23 and I rely on devices to remind me of memories. It seems to me that when we sleep the dreams we always see are the shadow dance puppetry of thoughts we have too frequently. So if you think tiny, closed thoughts, you'll have little nightmares, but try some thicker thinking to give your dreams some open air.
I've been over the facts that make up the puzzle. Some pieces fit, but solution's still shuffled. And there's holes that I know will show something wise if I can find the set of shapes that line up with the size. Suddenly I can see it, everything just clicks. I know where they go, I can tell how they fit. Some quick translations, slides and rotations to get every piece to it's final location. Step back to take it in, there's beauty in simplicity. Solutions coming suddenly? Call it an epiphany.
Make a meal, it lasts a day, maybe a couple more. Make a promise, and if you're honest, it will last for more. Make a statue, it might last for several hundred years. Make a mountain, eventually, we'll assume it's just been here. But no matter what you make, very big or very tall, someday the world will crumble, and thus lay waste to all. It might burn or crunch or maybe just explode out into space. And if we're still around it will end the human race. But that doesn't mean the things we carry mean anything less, accept nothing is forever, and just try to do your best. If you try to entertain the universe you'll only be frustrated. We do what we do for us and ours, so let's celebrate it.
Sweet and smooth, tangy but light. "A one of a kind culinary delight!" That's what all the posters say on the way to Eternity Garden. The fruits are pretty, but try a taste. By the time you finish, memory erased. What's it like? I couldn't say, but I lost a day in Eternity Garden.
I went to the kingdom looking for a treat, a toad offered up some reds to eat. At twice his height, I felt big enough asked if he had some stranger stuff. He offered some greens pressed into a moon I said "I'm not looking to kick the bucket too soon, and I'm playing hardcore mode, no continue, maybe I'm searching in the wrong kinda venue." He closed the door, twisted the lock said "I got the stock, just hit the block." Question mark boxing, prize inside, something pops out, eyes go wide. We passed it back and forth for a bit under an hour while we spit hot fire straight off the flower.