.
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. .
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how
do you
make
.
a
. .
.
. . .
. whole
new .
world?
. .
.
.
. .
.
.
not
from
nothing.
.
. .
.
. .
.
. nor
. from .
. scratch.
. .
.
.
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.
. .
. .
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.
.
how do you make
something
. completely
. .
. new?
.
.
. .
. can it be done?
. .
.
.
. .
.
it might be far more
. productive .
. .
. .
. .
.
to admit defeat
. .
.
.
.
. and .
. .
.
.
copy.
. just copy.
. . .
.
. .
. .
. will the world's inhabitants know .
. that they .
. are copies?
. .
.
. .
.
.
.
.
.
.
it's the beginning of the universe and there is nothing.
there is nothing.
until…
.
.
.
. .
. .
.
.
.
. .. .
.. . . : . . : .
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.⠀⠘⠃⢰⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⡀⠀⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⣀⣴⣿⡇⢀⣤⣾⣿⣿⠿⠛⠉⠉⠉⠙⠻⣿⣷⡄⠘⣿⣷⠀⠀
⠀⠸⡿⠛⣡⣶⣿⣿⠟⠋⢀⣠⣶⣶⣶⣄⠀⠀⣿⣿⣇⠀⣻⣿⠀⠀
.⠀ ⠀⣾⣿⡿⠋⠁⢀⣴⣿⣿⠿⢻⣿⣿⠀⠀⣿⣿⡏⢀⣿⡿⠀⠀
⠀⣠⣄⠈⠉⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⣾⣿⡟⠀⣰⣿⣿⠃⠘⠿⠃⠀⠀
⣀⠙⠋⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⡿⠁⢀⣀⠶⠈⠉⠀⣴⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⡀⠙⠃
⠙⠀⣴⣦⠀⣼⣿⡿⠀⢠⣿⣿⠇⠀⣠⣾⣿⡿⠁⠀⢀⣀⠸⠿⠀⠀
⠀⢸⣿⠇⢸⣿⣿⠁⠀⣿⣿⣯⣴⣾⣿⡿⠋⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀
⠀⢾⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿⡀⠀⠘⠻⠿⠿⠟⠉⣀⣤⣾⣿⡿⠋⣡⣤⡀⠀⠀
. ⠸⣿⣆⠀⢻⣿⣷⣄⣀⣀⣀⣠⣴⣾⣿⡿⠟⠋⣴⣾⡿⠛⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠹⣿⠇⠀⠙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠙⠁⠀.⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠶⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉. : . .
. . : . . and .
. . suddenly .
. . something! . .
. . .
. .
.
. .
. for the first time ever, there was something from nothing.
. . .
. .
. .
.
.
something…
. .
.
and oh, how it hurt. .
. .
.
. .
. .
.
and the nothing was no more.
.
.
. .
.
and the universe was alone.
.
.
.
.
.
now, at least, there was something. contained within the very universe itself. and it used that something, and it turned it into other things, and places, and worlds.
. . . .
.
. .
.
.
.
and for a while all the little people had no idea of their own nature. they said, though, that they were copied from something. something bigger than themselves who created them in its own image, and who loved them very much. they proudly proclaimed themselves to be copies.
. . .
. . .
. .
. . .
.
. .
.
the universe had no way to correct this assumption. they were from something else, something bigger, but they were not copies. the universe was alone. there was simply nothing to copy.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
the universe wept frustrated tears of stardust, and these tears too were made from something.
no one noticed them. they mingled with the rest of the something.
they mingled, and swept about, and frothed. and luckily enough… . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . they weren’t alone.
i don’t make a lot of new things. i’m not totally sure if i can. but i can take an idea, or see something that plants the seed of one, and make something from just that— from almost nothing. almost, but not quite.
i think it feels a little better that way. i feel a little bit more connected to all that stardust and foam that turned into a great web of humanity, full of ideas and thoughts and beliefs that we all share, now. ideas spread fast. i can take an idea and make it into something. i can write a little poem from an online prompt. i can draw from a base. i can code from a tutorial. maybe what i make will cause someone to make something else, too.
this page exists because of the indie web carnival.