Monday, February 18, 2019

Distants (

Consciousness left the planet like a cloud of pollen, spiraling off into existence, seeking a brand new symbiont. It happened as a critical mass, once exactly more than half decided to do so, and so the minority had no choice but to follow, as a part of a different singularity. And so, from planet to planet, and with no memory of the last or dream of the next, we have ascended through and civilized each and every star system knowable to eventual man.
Each world is unique, flawed and characteristic in its own way. This one is in that sense no different. But moving on is not so much about growing old or bored or running out of a particular resource, but rather figuring out how, as a group, to function as a completely positive entity, fueled by positivity, flying towards the light and flames, no matter how hot and bright it might get.

The determining factor is the ultimate form of the vessel we build to leave here. That will in turn determine the size and shape of the next world we choose to inhabit strictly out of a sense of familiarity. This creative aspect is inherent in all levels of participatory space. The vehicle remains intact within each surviving mind as a map or blueprint, and surrounding each heart as protection from unknown elements.

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