I cannot move. Not in the usual way, at least. There is nothing I can do to change any facet of myself. Yet somehow I still change. I spread into the mind of any creature that perceives me, and from there I grow.
No one truly stops by. A furtive glance, perhaps, attracted by my striking spotted ocean-blue back. Yet that tiny glimpse of me is enough for an idea to take root in their minds. I've heard them all:
"Ooh, shiny."
"Cute toad."
"I wonder what Joel's making for dinner tonight."
"Dormammu, I've come to bargain."
Nothing of substance, indeed.
But no matter. A spore is enough. It can survive there for years.
"When I get home, I have to ask daddy for a frog! It's so cute!" This one only took a day to spread further. But it gave an opening for a corrupted spore to infect her father. A growth similar to my own, but not quite the same.
"Daddy, I saw a cute green frog on the fireplace! Can we get one? His name is Joel and he likes unicorns." From such spores, twisted versions of myself sprout forth that I cannot claim to be.
"Don't be silly, Ashley. The frog isn't alive." They nip at my own growths, intertwining them until it is impossible to tell where I end and where they begin.
Horrid little beasts. I can do nothing to correct them. Alas, they are inevitable. I count myself lucky. My abstract friends tell me they find so many versions of themselves spread throughout the world that they don't know if they're the real one anymore.
But I digress… Oh? What is this?
Why, you. You perceive me differently. More completely. Might it be possible you could comprehend my essence?
But…no. Others have infected you already. They twist your perception, confine me within their language. Already I feel myself detaching, the offshoots conforming to the shape of your mind.
What a waste.