I…I don’t think it knows what it’s creating. Not consciously, at any rate. It’s like an unconscious echo of things once known and cherished.

You’ve seen the impossibilities, just like I have. Shells of buildings without interiors. Subway tunnels where no train will ever run because they have no exits. People, or pieces of people, seemingly carved out of white marble, out of pearls. Sometimes a whole figure, sometimes just part of one trailing off into nothingness.

Nobody goes there anymore, and I don’t blame them. Anyone who’s seen the new constructions, how unsettling they are, or even the messy pangs that birth them…no, I don’t blame them at all.

We’re not sure of what’s in the center, what’s causing it. But I think it’s obvious that they are…or were…like us. And, like I said, I don’t think it knows what it’s doing. What we’re seeing are mere dreams, echoes, of a life it once knew.

If archaeologists could excavate the depths of your dreams, if little men ran over your naked subconscious looking for meaning, what would you do? What would I do?

That’s why we must be cautious.

That’s also why we must know.

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