Once upon a time, there was a piece of software upon an iPod Touch. It was a new fangled device, one that was just recently introduced. The very program upon said device ended up being run, for better or worse. The software itself was a very simple, innocuous game. As the game started up, several processes were started, all of them related to the game’s functionality. By the miracle of object birth, and some method calls, a lone pixel was born.
That pixel lived its life on a white landscape, going as far as the software bothered to tell the pixel. That landscape was punctuated by an electronic sort of tune, which the pixel found very upbeat, for a while. And for a long time, the pixel lived in its cramped and confined world contentedly. Although life was monotonous for the pixel, it was a very pain-free environment, and for that the pixel was grateful.
But as time passed, the pixel became lonely and anxious. Its white walls had become stale artifacts of ages long past, and the pixel wanted to know if there were others like it. Above all, the pixel was curious as to why it had been born unto the barren, lifeless world. After all, the software never bothered to give the pixel any input. All the pixel had was a method, one which had not been called. That method was a clue to the pixel as to the purpose of its existence, a lifeline for which the pixel now lived for.
Holding on to this clue, the pixel began to explore the landscape further, and further. Despite the fact that all the pixel found at every step was white and pale, the pixel persevered. It had nothing better to do anyway, as that was what it had been doing for as long as it had known. The pixel knew that nothing was going to happen, but there was no harm in trying anyway. But that very state of sameness was about to change for the pixel.
It happened as the pixel was wandering as usual. Although brief, the white that had surrounded the pixel changed color. The pixel had to stop for a moment as it tried to figure out if it was hallucinating or not. An eternity surrounded by nothing but white could drive one mad after all. But nothing else happened, and so the befuzzled pixel was forced to continue on aimlessly until something else happened.
And then the pixel’s luck changed. This time, it had come upon another pixel. At this, the pixel was overjoyed. There were other existences like it in the world. Maybe the pixel wouldn’t be so lonely anymore. So the pixel tried to communicate with the pixel it had found. However, this was to no avail, as the pixel it had found was still just a newborn infant. The pixel was content to watch the newborn explore, as the elder pixel had already lived a long long time, and a few more time units couldn’t hurt.
The newborn pixel moved, and as it moved, so did the other pixel, content to watch the newborn learn and grow and adapt to the new environment. However that was a grave mistake for the old pixel to have made. Time units later, the newborn became a fleeting expansion of color.
When the color faded, there was nothing left but the elder pixel. There was nothing left to prove that the newborn ever existed in the first place. Thus it was that the old pixel grieved. Not only was its potential friend gone, seemingly permanently, but there wasn’t anything left to prove that the pixel was real. For a while, it really seemed as if the pixel was dead. It didn’t respond to stimulus, even though the method kept on letting the pixel know that it was white as far as the eye can see.
After a while, the pixel began to move again, in a tired death march to find a feeling of belonging. Lethargically, the pixel dragged itself through the white. The occasional bouts of color gave the pixel some hope, as it had begun to equate color with other pixels, but each time hope dwindled, as the pixel continued to turn up absolutely nothing.
Madness began to set upon the pixel. It had been alive too long without the creature comfort of company. The world around it turned into a haze, filled with half colors and half truths. It wasn’t sure what was left and what was right, what was real, and what was a false hope, waiting to break the pixel’s shattered heart. Yet one thing always brought the pixel back from the brink, the mysterious method of which the pixel had not figured out yet.
Near the end of its rope, the pixel sighed. Maybe it had no purpose. Maybe it was just a figment of the imagination. All the time it had spent figuring out the truth had turned out to be fruitless. The pixel doubted that it had even embarked upon the journey to begin with. The pixel had began to doubt everything that had happened to it, and even began to doubt its own existence.
Before it could do much else, the pixel was engulfed by grey. Suddenly, everything made sense to the pixel. The purpose behind its journey, the reason for the world to be white, everything was known to the pixel. And with horror, the pixel realized its purpose. The software had come back to activate the pixel’s one and only method. All of a sudden the pixel began to panic and convulse in its psuedo one dimensional space. Change was not what the pixel expected. Change was bad. As pressure began to mount, and the pixel was about to be crushed into oblivion, the end of its short lifespan, it thought one thing.
Why
And then there was color.
So it was that this was not how they were going to get their cutie marks.
