This is a simulation of how stories evolve.

Creatures representing the folklore of my childhood, the stereotypes of my everyday life eat, breed, mutate, forming hordes of adsurdities.

It's my coming to terms with the realization that impressions and beliefs control me more than I do them, that they are nonlinear, obscure and opportunistic. My head is a petri dish of hindsight, cultivation only partly up to me.

Hypha-like threads swarm and sprout mushrooms, fed on by restless myths, which relieve themselves when full and die & decompose if starved, both producing waste that nourishes the mycelium-like network. Round it goes, as life passes from one form to another.

No two simulations are the same.