redweasel 
Fuzzbutt
my mind is a temple, complete with blood soaked altar and pillars of flame!
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Description
Indescribable buffet
Behold not, the great old ones.
Reassembled from incomprehensible scribbles in Grim’s Diary:
And I saw, as it where, a great mass, of gore and granite, of sludge, meat and putrid flesh oozing things indescribable. Forever twisting, changing, bulging, merging. All thing physical taking forms forever fluid yet hard like rock and iron, fleshy magma, floating, coagulating freezing, breaking and tearing tendril flesh and warts and veins erupting like eyes of bubbles bursting excrements of flying feces falling, sucked back into its mess to be reprocessed, remended, digesting, melting, merging, swelling, bubbling, gurgling in substance so rapidly changing as to be indiscribeble. As indescribable as the Size… Size itself a word without meaning, for it and any other word failing to capsulate the everything that was this… What was it?
A landscape? No, An ocean? Not, a world?, No, a star? None of these things. For they would have been comprehensible. This… like a wall of the universes edge - Stretching infinitely beyond light and shadows edge. Beyond the reach of eyes and comprehension.
Yet the word “infinite” also failing in its use for the sheer contradiction of all the places in the universe that it did not occupy.
Yet the place it occupied fully was my mind. for as i watched i understood that this was the center of it all. Of our curse and the downfall of a thousand souls and a thousand worlds again consumed by wretched hunger. A mouth forever hungering.
And around it all. The little things. Flying, gnawing, licking, hacking, biting, slurping mass infinitively. The things little before the great mass but big before us, I knew, for I had just seen one of them upp close. They were the great manny mouths, forever hungering, feeding, devoering for the great devourer.
I could not look, Nor could i look away. Its putrid mass enthralling. and i found myself drawn down towards it eternal depths. like how a pony on the edge would find the deadly heights enthralling, calling, waiting for you to make the leap…
As a fuzzy tentackle covered my eyes and ripped my gaze away from the putrid sight.
As I came through the haze of madening revolting vissera, called to senses by Miveras screams and huggs of solid ground beneath us, I remember the first thought came to me:
“Such a crule, ironic twist of fate, for the all feeder to be consumed by his own mouths.”
Behold not, the great old ones.
Reassembled from incomprehensible scribbles in Grim’s Diary:
And I saw, as it where, a great mass, of gore and granite, of sludge, meat and putrid flesh oozing things indescribable. Forever twisting, changing, bulging, merging. All thing physical taking forms forever fluid yet hard like rock and iron, fleshy magma, floating, coagulating freezing, breaking and tearing tendril flesh and warts and veins erupting like eyes of bubbles bursting excrements of flying feces falling, sucked back into its mess to be reprocessed, remended, digesting, melting, merging, swelling, bubbling, gurgling in substance so rapidly changing as to be indiscribeble. As indescribable as the Size… Size itself a word without meaning, for it and any other word failing to capsulate the everything that was this… What was it?
A landscape? No, An ocean? Not, a world?, No, a star? None of these things. For they would have been comprehensible. This… like a wall of the universes edge - Stretching infinitely beyond light and shadows edge. Beyond the reach of eyes and comprehension.
Yet the word “infinite” also failing in its use for the sheer contradiction of all the places in the universe that it did not occupy.
Yet the place it occupied fully was my mind. for as i watched i understood that this was the center of it all. Of our curse and the downfall of a thousand souls and a thousand worlds again consumed by wretched hunger. A mouth forever hungering.
And around it all. The little things. Flying, gnawing, licking, hacking, biting, slurping mass infinitively. The things little before the great mass but big before us, I knew, for I had just seen one of them upp close. They were the great manny mouths, forever hungering, feeding, devoering for the great devourer.
I could not look, Nor could i look away. Its putrid mass enthralling. and i found myself drawn down towards it eternal depths. like how a pony on the edge would find the deadly heights enthralling, calling, waiting for you to make the leap…
As a fuzzy tentackle covered my eyes and ripped my gaze away from the putrid sight.
As I came through the haze of madening revolting vissera, called to senses by Miveras screams and huggs of solid ground beneath us, I remember the first thought came to me:
“Such a crule, ironic twist of fate, for the all feeder to be consumed by his own mouths.”
Note: I dont know if my artistic skill could ever be enoug to depict an eldritch landscape. Maybe I am lazy by saying that perhaps its better with a fuzzy image, alowing your own imagination to fill in the blanks.
Either way. Its what you are gonna get. Be glad the image does not destroy your mind. OoooooooouuuuOOOouuuuoooh.
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