Story accidentally started, here for storage


_You might think I'm being hasty putting a track I obtained yesterday this high on the list, but when you hear it, you'll know why.
_It's like I'm the captain of a starship traveling through a dark, sentient alien star that transmits malevolent signals directly into the minds of anyone foolish enough to fly inside. My crew is incapacitated by (its?) telekinetic powers, and I alone am spared. However, this is only for its amusement, similar to that of a young child inflicting elaborate tortures on a small insect. Telekinetically-induced madness is its converging lens.
_The black fog - the body of this celestial demon - lays billowing siege to the unforgivingly transparent walls of the bridge. A carnivorous cloud, the viewports its prey. It clogs everything it touches, so the displays show nothing but static. While I programmed the navigation computer to take us to the other side, in the midst of my growing mental haze, in slipping away from my own thoughts, I can't be certain.
_Prepared for the worst, I remember welding the bridge door shut. I question my metal-working as the sound of bodies and heads slamming against its supposedly impenetrable surface progresses from the (gentle) fury heard at inception, to meteorites crushing an avalanche to dust. (Impossible) dents appear, each making the seeming cacophony of an instant before as air swishing in an empty glass.
_No ship has ever left the Black Sun, but (alluring) capture and interrogation, or certain eradication were (alluring) my only other options.
_"Unless this is simply a story carved into my neurons by the star." As this thought ends, the haze begins ignoring the glass. I am enveloped.
_I want to consume, but not because I am hungry (I am actually not certain what this term means, but it holds some distant association). An urge comfortably sitting between a thirst for power, an endless stream of epiphanies declaring my infinite greatness, and an (enjoyable) universal hate seems to drive it.
_The (thoughts?) that I am only one small part of an infinitely larger being, and that I was once something else occasionally trickle in. They are satisfied when I consume. Thoughts of walking on strange hard surfaces flit around the edges of my consciousness. Most time there is spent sucking something invisible in and out. I perform other activities, but repeating this endless cycle is a majority of my behaviour. These thoughts too are satisfied when I consume.
_Yeah, yeah, I know Black Sun is the title, but so what if it influenced my interpretation?