It wobbled unevenly down a path, chuckling to itself, its voice glitching out, waking up some Animals that were near it. It swung its wavy arms, acting like some sort of kid, all joyous but strange…
Then it finally came to a stop, seeing an old house that had been left for who knows how long in the woods. Aster wobbled over there out of curiosity and stopped once it walked through the door, looking around. It felt weird to Aster how familiar it felt, like it was its home. It wobbled more into the house and saw a book filled with writing on a small bed, writing was wavy like theirs but steady. It read through the page, it was an interesting story whoever wrote that, but not as good as its own stories. Still, it felt more strange than Aster itself. It finally put the book down and wobbled out of the house and looked back at it…oh well, Aster moved on, rambling about stories out loud to itself while going to another world to see if there's a good story potential or if anyone could be altered.
It went into itself and came out of itself, ending up in some other world, still keeping its grin like always. Aster watched some characters play out their story and did so full of excitement in the shadows. Once it was over, Aster plopped down and watched the night sky. It touched its “mask” that was somehow fused to its face. Aster giggled after a moment of silence, startling some birds with its glitchy giggle, and flew away. Aster didn't mind its body at all; it felt happy that it was even this at all, being able to make good stories and sometimes be in some, but it couldn't remember anything besides those words from him:
“It's boring, isn't it? Wouldn't you rather be… the best writer in its own story…?”
Aster was always like this; it was never once human at all. Aster was originally nothing at all, just ideas and thoughts for stories that had been written over and over again by many different people…but then someone had an idea to make a rough idea of all the writers and what all writers do, so this person wrote the idea and created Aster using only words. Then there it was, Aster written out on paper. This person liked Aster a ton, making the best stories this person could, using Aster as their main thing to be even telling other people about Aster and showing stories about it. Months had passed, and Aster was still being used, but there was an issue…. every story was getting uninteresting, needing to be “fixed” for the better.
This person felt frustrated and crashed out on their bed, looking at the previous stories that had Aster. They got up after a bit, then rested on the front steps, trying to get some inspiration to write and be a good writer. After time of looking around they fell asleep still sitting in the front door steps and having a strange dream…it was all dark and in the woods still sitting the only light that lit up the dream was the grass giving a soft white glow, this person got up and walked a bit and found a mask on the ground…how strange…then a voice echoed in their dream…
“Its boring isn't it? Wouldn't you rather be….the best writer in its own story…?”
That voice felt so convincing with every word seeming to comfort their body…. This person held up the mask and put it on. Nothing happened, but it felt funky and unnatural…this person did nothing, a bit disappointed, still keeping the mask on, then it fused with this person…? They didn't do anything but be a bit startled and start to feel super funky.
Then Aster still as thoughts and ideas replaced this person becoming one with its creation but this person didn't mind at all, they were happy to be something interesting…still dreaming despite all of this happening
The creator has become the created.
There was no transformation in the dream, but rather an unnatural feeling all over their body and slowly waking up….everything felt different, they….no it couldn't remember anything besides those words that were spoken to them. It got up and wobbled a bit, looking down its body was all funky now, it didn't bother it since it just wobbled off laughing glitchy and right away was thinking of what would make a great story, just as it was meant to be; interesting and worthwhile for not just itself but many others.
This person who created Aster no longer exists in the universe. They are Aster now, and only Aster, and it has always been that way. Aster would not have existed thanks to everyone, Yes you helped out too. You like to create things, allowing Aster to exist and still do. Everyone is like Aster, somewhat or somehow.
