Mister Warp (Patreon)

Good afternoon my dears! Another day has been ahead ourselves, and with it the challenges and rewards. Though alas, perhaps my mind has been drifting for a minor while. The night prior as I had been in that fascinating pocket between the waking and subconscious world among the covers, I found myself with another one of those dreams I seldom speak of. 

The journey through a sunless and inky abyss, passing through the unceasing sharp rings to a thing I have remarked before, this mister warp. This thing whose face is nothing but beautiful triangles surrounding a hole in air itself leading to places one could only imagine. Spiraling, grinding into one another, cracking more than simply words but emotions through them. I've never known quite what to make of them. The dreams have always been things of various fleeting moments. This sense of being trapped within the walls of grey apartments, watching the elevators lead into the shadows and waters where they stare back from.

Suspended on stagnant surfaces of a pale pool of water in twilight, creeping among the other worldly smoke and fog of a glass labyrinth, pushing and urging again, and again, speaking of patience and failures in little gesture.  As to the purpose through all these years, I have yet to figure.