encoded notions

Within one’s mind lies a vast expanse of nothingness. Endless fields of smoothly curving freespace lie waiting to be imprinted with volatile simulations and personalities. Thinking does this; it is the paintbrush, and the landscape of the brain is the canvas. We, the artists, are given the complete freedom to paint at will—creating that which makes us happy. The painted masterpieces are products of our own inner desires and needs. All things made in this manner will be perfect, with no true comparison in the outer world. When upon our fields we recreate a living person, it is not the same as the original. The concept of the being is transferred properly, sans the parts that are not perfect. We carry out simulations and situations in nullspace, building dream upon dream, and perversion upon perfection. After tweaking and testing our handiwork, learning more about this twisted Venusian figure in realspace leads directly to disappointment. No one, not even the basis for our dream could ever approximate the phantasm that we created. “Nothing is as pretty in your hands as it was in your head” because thinking makes it prettier.