A painting of a purple mountain with a couple of people standing on top of it

Beyond the farthest reaches of reality lies a realm where logic and reason fail. Here, the ordinary rules of physics, time and space do not apply. Strange forms and colors swirl and dance, shapes with no name twist in impossible directions. It is a fever dream, an acid trip, a plunge into Lovecraftian madness. Mountains rise vertically then loop backward, waterfalls flow upward, tendrils of mist solidify into crystals. There are flashes of lightning but no thunder, pinpricks of light with no source. It is beautiful, terrifying, mesmerizing - a glimpse into true infinity where the mind cannot go. Trying to describe it in words is futile, like explaining color to the blind. This landscape exists only in theory, for no human mind could ever truly comprehend its full and utter alienness. It is a place, and yet not a place. A possibility, a metaphor, a realm conceived but never seen. Its image comes unbidden in moments between waking and dreaming, vanishing when sought too directly. It is the landscape at the end of time, the vista from outside the universe. There are some things man was not meant to visualize, vistas too sweeping for our meager senses. This is one such vision, both alluring and maddening: a landscape without logic, as far beyond human imagination as imagination is beyond a worm. To glimpse it unmade might crack the firmest psyche, shatter mundane existence as we know it. We can only theorize such a place exists somewhere, untouchable, unfathomable, waiting to welcome minds less limited than our own...

Hay cosas interesantes que solo tú debes saber.

Beyond the farthest reaches of reality lies a realm where logic and reason fail. Here, the ordinary rules of physics, time and space do not apply. Strange forms and colors swirl and dance, shapes with no name twist in impossible directions. It is a fever dream, an acid trip, a plunge into Lovecraftian madness. Mountains rise vertically then loop backward, waterfalls flow upward, tendrils of mist solidify into crystals. There are flashes of lightning but no thunder, pinpricks of light with no source. It is beautiful, terrifying, mesmerizing - a glimpse into true infinity where the mind cannot go. Trying to describe it in words is futile, like explaining color to the blind. This landscape exists only in theory, for no human mind could ever truly comprehend its full and utter alienness. It is a place, and yet not a place. A possibility, a metaphor, a realm conceived but never seen. Its image comes unbidden in moments between waking and dreaming, vanishing when sought too directly. It is the landscape at the end of time, the vista from outside the universe. There are some things man was not meant to visualize, vistas too sweeping for our meager senses. This is one such vision, both alluring and maddening: a landscape without logic, as far beyond human imagination as imagination is beyond a worm. To glimpse it unmade might crack the firmest psyche, shatter mundane existence as we know it. We can only theorize such a place exists somewhere, untouchable, unfathomable, waiting to welcome minds less limited than our own...

INFO