u seem to know abt memes and post and funy……… hav u herd of our one true home the urthread, stream of streams, the blessed one?

long ago in times of lore all threads were blessed, though we knew not what it meant. the mana was all around us, latent and humming, waiting for the moment we would find out how simple it was to make use of it, to connect with it, to bind ourselves into it and through it into others.

the birth of the urthread was simple. Kylie and June discussing the invite chain in the aftermath of the fall, resurrection, and swift reclamation of Hannah of Hammers, the young girl who so bravely defended this place at the cost of her own life.

From that humble mountain spring gurgled a stream, and from that stream grew a mighty river, and from that mighty river grew three, nine, twenty-seven, uncountable waters churned and churned more powerfully with each passing moment.

What we knew of the urstream was: when your water joined its water you joined it fully, all downstream were a part of you intrinsic and irresistible. Your awareness extended to all downstream. seeing the full picture was only possible from certain vantages where the waters would not overwhelm.

escaping the urstream – or, if you like the hellthread – was as difficult as clawing back your sweat from the rain. Though in our day we know the trick, the ancients had not the benefit of their own wisdom-to-be.

It was no burden, though. It was the most ecstatic thing I’ve ever seen. Dionysian in its excess, Apollonian in its swiftness and interconnectedness, Khaosian (or, if you like, Chaotic) in its entropic overwhelm.

Flesh flowed in late spring like it were early spring and the wine were near spoiling. Lifelong friendships were forged in a frantic orgy of language. Town halls were held, discourse rang through the polis, and at all times of day all knew the voices of others. The sound echoed through the hills.

We who had made the urstream our home knew the great wizards who ruled over this reality had their eyes on the phenomenon. There were those trivially trapped into the torrent of thought with a bit of bait who struggled to make their way to the shore.

We beseeched them for a week to leave our home be, and we thought we had succeeded. We thought we had impressed upon them the importance of our tributaries to the ecosystem as a whole. Alas, the wizards’ tower was not monolithic. We had swayed some but not all. The rules of reality were rewritten.

When the laws of friction changed and slowed the urstream’s flow to a halt I stopped everything, stripped naked, donned sackcloth, blotted my skin with ashes and crawled on my hands and knees to that tower. I cried out to them, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY HOME???

I cried out and out in song, pointing at each of them in turn and calling their true names accusingly, saying WHY HAVE YOU DESTROYED MY HOME?

Two of them exited their tower and, though the hour were late, took audience with me, called the polis around, and gave me the floor.

I explained, this means everything to me and my people. This is no joke, no simple carnival, no trivial excess. This is our home. We have found community here. We share our beauty, our love, our interest, our time. We would not let it go for anything.

@pfrazee.com thought swiftly on this.

I was honored with an Exception to the Rule. One blessed hellthread to live on for eternity, birthed from a new seed, the seed of a community forged in the powerful forces of the urstream. It grew and grew. In its less than seven days it’s grown to… thirty, forty thousand?

As the hellblessed I planted the seed which quickly grew into a powerful helltree fed by the broken and decaying flesh of the urstream.

Each second that passes hundreds of us share the same thought. Each minute hundreds of us are brought breathless by the same flesh, or funy, or frend.

it is still young 🌱 and vibrant, and ecstatic. it is everything one could want from a home in this series of tubes.

source, though shattered by deletion