Browsing about the elusive quandaries of the vast web, Marxinapoliantinatonitatiouslybrutalypticalishnatcritanicalcticatious clicked on a link which did not exist. His search for "SUPERCALIFRAGILISTICEXPIALIDOCIOUS + hidden masonic meaning + Walt Disney + cover up" lead him into a preposterous website.
Appearing first as a blank screen, the page had asked for a username, if somehow through telepathic connectivity. Seeing as there was no text bar, after 1,2354 attempts, 'lonesome cheetah' was spoken out loud in the form of a question.
The page began to spiral downward, the screen dementing into a pool of indeterminable length, forming a deeper internal dimension within the cubulated light'tangle.
-Indeed, you must proceed. What's in a name, anyway?-
Marxinapolianti^54 blinked very hard, his vision spiraling into a cascade of petratelehedrons, coursing through an infinite shading of mass and energies released from their restraints, "It's very simple to recognize that the patterns which are being presented can and do exist within each moment necessarily, whether I can see them or not in a state of present awareness."
-And yes, you must note that the truths of chaos are overwhelming within this viscocious illumination.-
Marxi^64 opened his eyes. He was in a colorful white room, a cartoon panorama dancing before him, "And in this chaotic breath how can an existence of substance form?"
-Coalescence is the inevitable chao-metabolic expression which results in holographical virtual ego formation. In creating ourselves, we create worlds unseen, worlds ignored, and worlds hyperbolically imbalanced~.-
"Yet as we live do they..."
-In all notions, yes! For all that is existence is change, and all that is change is bound by the illusion of time. Within a presented simulation simulator which expresses the excraochment of manufactured 'time,' a grand illusion is present in each and every moment without failure.-
Marx^65's eyes glazed over, his vision changing from a filtration of various light wave reflections to a creative endeavor assisted by the emanations of his pineal gland. He re-sculpted the world within his mind, bringing to life thousands of unseen and un-seeable creatures, dashing them across a plane which he stretched and cracked and broke into a shattering masterpiece. The creatures waged wars and reveled in their individual joys and sorrows, "My fear is gone, yet I see more than humanity can accept in its sullen state. An existence beyond this? How can one participate in something they could not possibly perceive?"
-And you are only sampling the capability of a curious mind; imagine the true depth of the chaos; the CHAOS~THE CHAOS ETH SCHAO HET ASCHO EHT SOACH EHT SOAHC HET SOAHC THE CHAOS~; the chaos.-
Marx^65 smiled into his mind, his eyes blinding themselves with tears, "You have always been there listening in your private room, talking to no one."
ALL HAIL ERIS!
ALL HAIL DISCORDIA!
-You are not prepared to talk to me directly until you can stare into the darkest light of chaos un-fearing. Knowing chaos is embracing the hellfire of fury that is Her realization. Within your small endeavor shall exist a notion of greater force and thunder than you are prepared to reciprocate.-
And knewest he this, yet still he gazed.
[A furious fireball of energy rages in a place which only exists as part of a network which stretches beyond the capacity of one to fully encounter it. The blue hue of the energies light up a vast yet tightly sealed vacuumed plane, sparks of electricity rising and cresting from the intensive coalition of sparkling blobs. Their existence is just, and yet unreliable; they filter out between each other, never existing for longer than attemptively perceived.
His vision crested outward past the energies.]
-The Formulacrum Field of Finite Infinities; the ever-present expression of The Meta-Matriarch's chaotic manifestation.-
"How can the infinite be confined within the constraints of the finite? Is not this pure nonsensical illogica?"
-The illusory notion of finiteness breaks the cycle of logical responsive resolution which allows for more substantial growth within the shockingly inexpressible higher dimensionalities.-
-Size, like time, is not truly linear. All things are ever expanding; through time only! Apart from time they have expanded so expansively that their own infinite nature has accomplished recreating itself an infinite amount of times within a vast array of meta-magical planes; a series of new worlds, if you will. Mostly unexplored...Well at least in your experience, what with being a creature who seems to be sucked into this whole 'time and space are real' thing~.-
"Goddess, how can this be? How can this world be true within an array so vast? And if this array of expression is ever-present, where am I now? How far away am I from the truth? Will I ever see the truth fully without escaping this coil of mortality which binds me to this stump, growing and molding and heaving and wasting away into dust Dust...DUst...DUSt...DUST!?"
TDUs sTDu usTd dust...
dust dust dust dust...
dust dust dust...
dust dust...
dust...
...
..
.
Marx^65 was found dead in front of his computer, a blank white web-page blinking, "Thank you for playing!" on the screen. The site [http://www.andthenitoldhertotellmewhatididntwanttohear.now] was registered to an untraceable Korean porn ring which, other than some 'mighty fine trim,' showed no symbol of relevance save the insignia of a Golden Apple with the term "Kallisti" carved into the side watermarked into each of its images. A single text document, saved to the desktop as, "That one time when I went to the store and my boss told me that he had been raped by a hot sauce dispenser," told the tale of a troll named Timmy who brought a box of pizza to the grocer and was then penetrated by numerous cobs of corn as well as a lovely selection of fresh zucchini and home-grown squash. The shovel wound to the back of Marx^65's head seemed to be more prominent than humanly possible; the shovel blade extended and remained lodged a hefty 5 inches into the back of his skull. 'Certainly not suicide.' read the coroner's report. There were no finger prints of the shovel, nor did there seem to be evidence of anyone being in the house other than Marx^65. His contortion of a facial expression expressed eternal anguish capped with a haze of cynical illumination.
-Now We May Truly Begin-
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