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The above is some murky oil stain on the surface of water. A submergence but also a floating residue. Resting in a permanent stuckness. Flames should spark into life but they only remain as sparks. Never sparkles never living just floating and dribbling it's entrails powerlessly through the shallow body of the pond.
It's only movements and desires are all involved in sculpting the underwater muck and stone into brilliant structures of self celebration.
(I've always wanted to design stain glass windows - the above image would look great in a church.)
Cities build themselves with little thought on the part of their designer - the oil stain just makes intuitive self satisfied movements. Like language it has a evolutionary pattern of it's own. Monuments and facilities that reflect hope and progress and the brightness of the oil spillage's ego.
In between all the looping structures there still exists strains and growths of overlooked living matter. Strands of DNA linking themselves together thoughtlessly into brand new survival machines. Creating life that can live under this muddy pool of disease.
Predictably of many evolving lifeforms they eventually grown arms and legs and eventually gain a resemblance to humanity. This makes them easier to describe.
The differences between us and them are that they are much smaller. They have much longer necks than we do though. And they have perfected the art of pushing their heads up through their oily creator and peering at the world through their pond's perimeter.
On the day they first saw the daylight above the oil spillage they believed they had reached the edge of everything. That the sky was some blank white wall marking the boundary of the universe.
After several generations they pulled themselves out of the pond - slim, bipedal, long necked amphibians. Exploring the marsh lands of our planet as we speak. Though I'm certain we have nothing to fear.