Corpulescent corridors

Fighting a swarm of parasitic eyeballs has never been easy. They swoop in on wings of fluffy madness and attach themselves with wiry tendrils of thread-like script.

The opening that sprawls before us is reminiscent of an airplane hangar or some behemoth cavern of crystals and dark spongy stone. Lattices of cat's eye and chalcedony shelves decorate the deep of it. Textures and swirling flavors marshal against our persistence.

It's always a question of interpretation. Do these patterns exist in the sense that it seems they do? Or have our senses assigned them to something that we can only vaguely recollect?

And finally redux

Another set of demons crouch besides the hallway entrance door. They will have their slimey tendrils presently wrapped around this anxious and cumbersome Cube.

Another contemplative disruption

Seeking through the dross of consciousness, another connection shatters into dangerously sharp layers

The mad science of dating

Being preyed upon by 64 gods, mad science will do this emulate of Ignierial not a whit of good.