brother, don't come looking for me
don't come lookin' for me down here.
‘there are ravines. presences something between molluscs and deities squat patiently below eight miles of water. in the lightless cold a brutality of evolution obtains. rude creatures emit slime and phosphorescence and move with flickerings of unclear limbs. the logic of their forms derives from nightmares.
there are bottomless shafts of water. there are places where the granite and muck base of the sea falls away in vertical tunnels that plumb miles, spilling into other planes, under pressure so great that the water flows sluggish and thick. it spurts through the pores of reality, seeping back in dangerous washes, leaving fissures through which displaced forces can emerge.’
— china miéville, the scar, 2011.
