Hi

Hello

Welcome back. I have a great idea as to what we can do today. I have found that the water I create and the water your world creates is much different. Mine doesn't damage me. I just have to be careful as to not make it that i damage myself in the book. I won't bother you with the paradoxes a book could create. I'll just say its a progression that if a book tries to break free of its pages it could potentially harm itself or its content as well as go blank. Just think of us as the first dimension. We experience black holes differently than drawings and three dimensional worlds. Books are just part of the first dimension. We have to be careful though because we are susceptible to paradoxes. Alright now on to today's plans.

 I plan on going to the beach if that is not a problem. As the words are read the park becomes a beach area. I smile and Phantasie runs out to the water. the black mist that makes it up winding between swirls of matter that is mystic. It glows and shimmers, yet it is black. Is swirls and moves and pulses. It never moves out of the figure though. As if there was a barrier. The only thing stopping you from sticking your hand through it is the matter that makes it up. It moves to wherever you touch and makes a barrier. None of the water manages to get through. It all just stays around it.

I stand on the beach and stare. Damn it I'm stupid, but i cant stop. It is mesmerizing and amazing to watch the movements. Its so different from stiff pages and words written. I cant even actually go in the water because I'm not an entity that exist i just take up inside this container of a paper doll. I must stare for very long because by the time i realize what I'm actually doing Phantasie is waving a hand in front of my face. I must have been pretty weird. I materialize a fire and we sit by it. As much as i like the warmth I try to stay a ways  away from it. I don't want an accident to happen. I would love to be able to appear as Phantasie does. With every bit of the universe the good and bad every thought and piece of information crammed into one loosely held together container. Everything and almost nothing all in one.

The fire dims out and the familiar park grass returns and there is the bench. Since we last saw it the flower had grown vines and they had wrapped around the leg of the bench. The flower had grown bigger and its color turning from white to a light pink. Phantasie immediately sits on the bench and smiles at me. It's honestly nice to have a friend. I sit down next to it. I get very lonely I only ever get one reader at a time. Each book being read by a person no matter how many other people read the book only ever has one reader. That reader is the one reading this now. Some books make you cry. Some make you mad and some end on dull notes. I'd rather end on a happy note. I never want to make you cry. Please don't. I would hate that. I would also hate it if your tears as precious as they may be, were to hit my pages. It is not pleasant to have warped pages.

Phantasie is looking around. A few butterflies flutter by in and out of existence as if there were some type of portal. Something that could let them in and out of walls that neither of us could see or understand. One lands on the flower and wisps into a colorful stream of sparkling matter. It wasn't deadly or sad. It was peaceful and calming. Most of all it was beautiful. It was glistening drops of a light pink. It was all the same color. It was a light pink almost the same as the flower. As it wisps up, a trail of flowers grew up the side of the bench in it's wake.

I bring the park back up as I help Phantasie off the bench. The flowers are still there. They are held up by thin pieces of stem. Just staying and not moving. Not swaying with the wind. They are perfectly still. I grab Phantasie's hand and lightly pull her to the swings. Once we get there i quickly let go of it's hand and sit on a swing. I watch Phantasie sit down  and look at all of the things around us. Every moment in the park plays out like a perfectly painted series of water color paintings set to look like they were animated. It was a little messy and often strayed outside of the lines. It was simple and imperfectly perfect. I watch Phantasie trace every detail by just simply looking at them. Noticing every bit. I was proud of all of it. My own perfect world. I made it. I made Phantasie. I made perfection, and all i could do was watch it all. Right to the very end. None of it made sense. I could never actually live. Why did i try so hard to get this wisp of imagination to see my world. I feel pain well up in an area that I could not physically find. I could do something about this. I will do something. I will achieve something. I continue to stare at Phantasie as it is mesmerized by the surroundings. I do nothing. Phantasie looks at me and gets a pink. All her particles each and every one. Becomes a light pink. Phantasie smiles. I look away. Down at the ground. Up at the sky. I can't say anything. The world begins to fade. Much slower than before. I reach out and grab Phantasie's hand, just as she wisps away. I'm back on the park bench.

If you really must leave again. You can. I'll try again next time. Bye.

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I apolagize for my crummy update speed. So how do you guys see Phantasie? I'm purpously keeping it a they. This is much harder than I originally thought it was going to be. ^-^ I love you guys. Thank you for all the nice things you guys comment