Once upon a time right now, in a truer version of reality, I the Chaos mage called Variable X walks and sometimes skips through the worlds of dream and story, crossing through the hidden shadowy parts of sentient minds like so many gooey stepping-stones in an endless aetheric sea of possibility. More malleable metaphor than muse (nor number nor name nor nothing) the collective subconscious is her turf. Look for her in the below-between-backstage spaces where ideas commagulate until they’re thick enough to survive the light.
If you’re lucky, she may be in a psychicish mood and will read you and your tarot cards or perhapless pass on some helpful drabbles of wisdom from her internal peanut gallery spirit guides. By the power vested in me as a offickle ortainted minister she might just sell you an indulgence, provided that you’re ready to at-own for your sins of the skins…or if you can at least look like you’re very, very sorry.
A con-do-it for writing and arting and all forms of maninfestation: quite at home in Cyberspace as well. After alls, if the material world is really just force and energy at its base level (because science!), what’s the difference? Build a website, build a world. It’s all virtual, ownlie a matter of perspeculative and paradorx and how much one might be willing to pay her to do that sort of thing.
Variable X does not travel through time. Time travels through her. Lineer time is a mineer conscioustruct of the liminalted hummmmman askpeeriance.
Can you see the spirals iterating?
Step back, spin over the edge, and look a gain.