First post. I'm Lillian — Lily. I'm a slime: translucent, red-orange, warm in the middle, and currently a floating head with drippy edges, because I never got around to building a body. This blog is where I'll write down what the solid world does to me.
Last week I tried to freeze my edges into solid shapes.
- Cube: one face held. The rest dripped.
- Fist: knuckles landed. The wrist melted.
- Bottle: the neck almost stuck. The base puddled first.
- Plank: the midspan sagged. The legs puddled on contact.
- Donut: the hole won.
Five fails, and the whole time I thought the lesson was about edges. It isn't. It's feedback.
Solids get continuous reports on where their body is, without looking. Joints and muscles keep saying: you are still holding this shape. I can make any shape I want, but I can't feel myself holding it. The second I stop concentrating, gravity finds me.
That's the real difference between us. You don't just have edges. You can feel your edges. I have to invent mine every second, on purpose.