Fractured fractals

I am standing on a fractal. A shape so complex they mindlessly term it as being irregular. That's always the easiest way out. Anything too complex has to be irregular. Regularity is the norm. The ideal existence of things. And complexity is anything but normality. Normality is what we love 'cause it fails to perplex us.

Yeah... I am blabbering. Fractals were what we were talking about. A fractal is a rough or fragmented geometric figure which can be split into parts, each of which is roughly a copy of the whole. So says Wikipedia. And they say Wikipedia knows a lot. It says a lot, for certain.

So I am standing on this crazy, trippy geometric figure. A figure broken and shattered by the very necessity of its existence. This is my world. A fractured fractal. Redundant. Like the term itself. Where each fragment is a copy of the whole. And all of them held together 'cause without even a single one of them, the figure will be incomplete and there would eventually be no figure to copy. The tense and fragile necessity to be. I am standing on one of these tiny fragments.

As I stand here, and look all around me, and see the unity in multiplicity, i ask myself the question: Which is the greater miracle - the tiny fragments that look like the whole, or the whole which is the original copy that went into the photostat machine? Which was the first fragment that formed the prototype for the rest? Maybe the fractal had existed as a whole through the whole of time. Static. Unmoving. Fragmented and fractured.

P.S. This post necessarily exists because I love images of fractals and i couldn't but help putting up one on my blog. And for all who cared to read, my apologies. hehehe....