Somewhere Along The Sola-Luc-Aei
The story you are about to read is not so much a story as it is a collection of ideas.
A collection of ideas that may, or may not, interest you or resonate with you.
None of these ideas are articulated in a particular coherent or concise manner.
My hope, though, is that you find these ideas, along with the stories and possibilities the suggest, inspiring and enchanting, in one way or another.
Sometime in 2022 — earlier in the year, ideally — these ideas will turn into a series of stories. My hope is that these stories are far more coherent and concise, while also being more beautiful.
Somewhere Along The Sola-Luc-Aei
Somewhere along the Sola-Luc-Aei, lies an island known as “Alwafira”.
Long ago, Alwafira was home to people from all across the Asima Samudra Kalpana.
People came from their homes, in search of opportunities and possibilities that only the Sola-Luc-Aei could provide.
Many of these people found what they were looking for.
Eventually, though, the islands along the Sola-Luc-Aei began to diminish.
Many chose to leave, migrating deeper within the Asima Samudra Kalpana.
The reasons for this are unknown to me.
Much of what exists, regarding the Sola-Luc-Aei — and Alwafira, in particular — is etched in languages resigned to the spaces in which that which is lost and forgotten resides.
Some fragments exist, however. And, while these fragments are vague, they are all we have.
On their own, these fragments amount to little more than their namesake.
Each one is, in its own way, fascinating.
Rich with imagery and concepts that go beyond our present assumptions, they are a delight.
But, as a work of history, these fragments are meaningless.
When combined, however, these fragments become a single story.
A single story that contains, within itself, infinite stories within stories.
Each one of these stories serves to unveil the never ending abundance found within Alwafira — and, in turn, the Sola-Luc-Aei — so very long ago.
But, there is a problem.
A problem that arose so very long ago, persisting to this day.
You see, these fragments exist without reference.
So much of what was within these cities, and the jungles surrounding them, no longer exists.
No longer exists and no longer can exist, for such things go beyond memory and dream, existing beyond that which can even be imagined or understood.
All of what exists, then, is symbols without association.
Symbols without association, residing within a realm of meaning.
A realm of meaning that waits for meaning. But, this meaning cannot exist — will not exist — for that which is needed for meaning to exist has been lost to the infinite motion of memory and dream.
Right now, little is known of the great city within Alwafira.
The symbols, etched within the documents and records, seem to suggest beauty and abundance, possessing a limitless array of wonderful forms.
But, what was that beauty like? What was that abundance like?
What did such things look like? What did such things feel like?
No one knows the answers to such questions.
And yet, there is something we know.
A set of things are known, to be specific.
Not of the great city within Alwafira, but the spaces existing right outside of the city.
You see, right outside of the great city, is the jungle.
But, right before one was able to go into the jungle, they would pass through a series of spaces, each one containing buildings created long ago, before the creation of Alwafira’s great city.
Every single building, within this space, scraped the sky with architectures composed of wood, metal, and stone.
None of these buildings were unconventional, by the standards of those venturing into this space, many years after it had been abandoned.
Rather, each one of these buildings seemed indebted to the tried-and-true styles of the buildings found on the other islands along the Sola-Luc-Aei.
Surfaces are, as they say, misleading.
For, you see, within the mundane exteriors of these buildings, there existed libraries.
Every single building possessed its own library.
And, not just one library, but many libraries.
So many libraries, in fact, that they went beyond that which can be fully described and articulated, into the infinite.
Every single building possessed an infinite number of libraries.
The libraries within these buildings were filled with books.
No single traveler was capable of cataloging all of the books within these libraries, for such a task is, of course, never ending, given the infinite spaces that contain infinite books.
Regardless of that, though, travelers found, and cataloged, many unique books.
Some of these unique books include “Forgotten Lands: A Travelogue”, “Oceans Within The Mainframe: A Guide To B-66 Robotic Terminals”, “Thought-Control: Your Journey To Amara”, and “Somewhere Along The Electronic Railroad”.
Each one of these unique books served as a radiant collection of information, ideas, and stories, all of which pertained to the realm we live in, as well as, perhaps, an infinity of realms existing outside of our awareness.
Many of the libraries within these libraries were conventional spaces. Spaces familiar to those who have ventured into a library, of any sort, to find a book, or some other media.
Some of these libraries — many of them, in fact, for there exists an infinite number of libraries within one library — served as a contrast to the spaces of convention.
Many of these strange and unusual spaces were recorded by travelers and explorers.
The records of many of these travelers and explorers have been lost.
Some remain, though.
You can find, within these records, descriptions of vast jungles that contain moss-covered doorways made of stone, each one leading to another world; faintly-illuminated stone chambers containing maggot-shaped beasts the size of whales, moaning and grunting as they slither across the imperceptible vastness of the space; chambers that contain floors and floors of a books, with glass walls covering the exterior, revealing an ocean rich with movement and life; along with many other spaces, the likes of which were forgotten or remain unknown.
Our world, as you know, is rooted in patterns.
Each one of these patterns gives way to processes.
The processes emanating from these patterns serve as structures.
Every structure serves a single function: to give birth.
To give birth to an infinite abundance of creations that exist within those structures.
To give birth to an infinite abundance of new structures, rooted in the old structures.
Sometimes, the creation of these structures fractures in ways that go beyond the patterns and processes that serve as the origin of this recursive creation.
Everytime this happens, the creation of that which cannot be occurs.
The libraries within the space beyond Alwafira serve as an example of this.
For they exist within the structures that created them, yet beyond the recursion.
A recursion that serves as a never ending set of structures.
Each one of these structures exists beyond that which is visible, yet exists as the foundation of all that is and all that can be.
And yet, of course, there are exceptions. So, such a statement, as above, is erroneous.
Even greater still, though, there exists another set of exceptions.
Another set of exceptions so great and so vast that no one can know of it, or articulate it.
For this set of exceptions exists beyond our periphery.
You see, the recursion, as it exists, is situated not in the physical world, but all along our bodies.
Our bodies are the recursion and, with our bodies, comes our minds, which exist as part of this recursion and, perhaps, as a product of this recursion.
And yet, our bodies and minds exist as one, dependent on the other. This means that the recursion does not begin and end with the body or the mind but, instead, simply exists.
Our bodies and mind are the recursion.
The recursion, though, is an artifact.
Within this artifact, there exists a space.
A landscape, you might say.
Or, perhaps, an abundance of landscapes.
Each one of these landscapes is embedded within our very depths, serving as a source of definition and creativity.
A series of structures, giving life to infinite stories.
Stories that must exist within the recursion, shaping the world in alignment with such things.
And, yet, at the same time, the recursion is limited to our bodies and minds.
For our bodies and minds are creative.
So creative, in fact, that they bring forth dreams.
Each one of these dreams serves to define us, what we are, and what we have to do.
Our bodies give life to the memory we experience, and the dream we live.
For our bodies are the recursion.
Every single structure that we experience is a product of the recursion.
A recursion that creates.
For the structures within this recursion are creative.
Each one of these structures began as a question.
A question, rooted in one’s curiosity.
The curiosity of a great being, perhaps, engaged in a lovely act of play.
Soon enough, though, such questions lead to the creation of assumptions.
The creation of assumptions lead to the creation of structures.
All of these structures came together, to define and limit.
Yet, within the definitions and limits of such structures, there exists that which must go beyond the structures.
Even more than that, though, there exists the possibility of that which exists beyond the structures.
For a structure must, by its very nature, be limited and confined, rather than all-expansive.
So it is with Alwafira; a living dream, embedded within the recursion, yet merely an emanation from our very being.
To everyone who read this story, thank you!
To everyone who attempted to read this story, thank you!
Really, thank you so much!
My hope is that this story was, at the very least, mildly interesting.
Even if it wasn’t, though, thank you for reading.
Right now, 2022 is almost here. My hope is that you, and your loved ones, enjoy your New Year celebrations and, most important of all, have a wonderful 2022!
Best wishes and, please, have a blessed day!