Image: Midjourney, Adobe Firefly – Text: ChatGPT – Master of Prompts: Me
Hi. I’m Circle 7. Not to brag, but I’m the prettiest loop in this whole cosmic diagram. Perfect curvature, golden outline, slightly off-center in that “mysterious genius” kind of way.
I live up there, floating over a field of flowers—mainly red poppies. They stare at me all day like I’m some celestial influencer. Honestly, it’s exhausting.
Every night, stars sparkle behind me while I hang on this chalkboard sky with my circle siblings. Some of them think they’re part of a big scientific equation. Circle 3 says we form a map to the meaning of life. Circle 12 thinks we’re an ancient alien message. Me? I think we’re just doodles left by a bored universe.
But the flowers… oh, the flowers are intense. They bloom dramatically, always in the right light. One even tried to flirt with me once. I said, “Sorry, I’m a shape. Commitment’s not really my thing.”
People come too. They lie in the poppies, stare at us like we owe them answers. One guy shouted, “Explain everything!”I would’ve, if I knew. But I’m just Circle 7. I don’t even have a mouth.
Sometimes I spin for fun. Sometimes I wish I was a triangle—at least they have sharp points and direction. But no. I’m round. Infinite. Elegant. Clueless.
Still, it’s not a bad gig. Float in space. Look important. Never age.
The riddle of the universe? Ha. We are the riddle.
And the punchline is: no one knows what we’re doing here.
Not even me.