If the ramblings of a thousand minds were to burst at once onto the web, it would be like the chaos of a tortured soul. I am become muse, the scatterer of words.
Consider this your Armageddon. Let all ideas perish in the holocaust of thought. I am Shiva the destroyer, but I come not with a sword. I come to bring peace of mind.
Cleansed in phoenix-fire, your thoughts are purged of ennui. Be reborn, inspired, awakened, and create.
Be not hindered by the haunting of another writer’s ghost. Metal tempered twice will lose its strength and edge. In your foundry, forge new weapons and attack the slumbering troll. Call him boredom or stagnation, he has smothered many minds.
Now is ripe for revolution; ready the proletariat to rise as many and destroy the bounds of rationality and time.
In the blast, the squalid ideas perished. The aftermath is sterile, cold and stark. The void is screaming out for new beginnings. Fill the vacuum with unbridled flights of thought.
Now the astral plane is sizzling with the fallout from the blast. The survivors are transformed to something more. As the delta symbol stands for both the element of fire and the indication of a system’s change, they are scarred and gifted, freed of all that bound them.
Stumbling from the darkness, they can see the light of day dawning on the endless world the never knew. Let your mind not be imprisoned by my vision.
I give you no direction save, “be fearless.”
In pursuit of all that’s good, we lose our voices, speaking only words we think will please the world. Art need not be pleasant to be brilliant, need not be “pretty” to be beautiful. Tilt back your head and drink that fallout tainted rain.
You have now become a mutant. This is your genesis scene. For good or ill, your mind is given superpowers, unleash them as you will.
Let there be chaos.