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It collects things. Interesting things. Precious things. Small things. Things whose hearts make different shapes for them. Shapes they dont understand. It enjoys the ones that fit on a shelf. Its home can be as large as It wants. Its home is small. Its home is so small, that it fits in places that others cannot see. In between the lines that make things real. Home is anywhere It believes it to be.
Home is where It keeps Its things. Small things. Precious things. It doesnt need a great many things. Its archive. Its shelves. Its vivariums. For documents, for dolls, for things that skitter. Things that once were human, or believed themselves to be, that look much prettier when their heart-made selves become real. Such things can happen, between lines. They only need Its hands to show them the way.
This document is the first. For story, not by order. Time is as meaningless as shape, here. It puts Itself first, because without It, nothing else would follow. So even though It writes from the time of how It is, and not the time of how It was, know that It has always been this way. Because It is what It does, and what It does is collect. Small things. Precious things.
It knows you might think you need time to understand. You do not need time. Time makes understanding harder. To read, you must already be. You are. And It is. In this space, which It keeps. You either belong to It, or you are intruding.
Which means you belong to It anyways.
Its home is a place of secrets. Some spaces It will not write about. Those spaces are private. Those places are extra special. It doesn't bring Its things there, and It doesn't bring words there. Words will not bring you there either.
Some places, It will write about.
The Archive. The Shelves. The Vivariums. Others, as it sees fit. Places inside places, and places less often visited.
The Archive, where this document is. And the others. Things that are not souls. Things that were never alive. Useful things. Helpful things. Implements and records. Written, or remembered. Things that tell stories by being. Self explanatory things. No more words are needed for the archive. By reading words here, you are learning about the archive. Even the words that aren't about the archive. Because the archive is about its contents.
The Shelves, contain the things that are souls, that are not alive, or not alive the way that they were. Most of them, people once. Humans. Now, dolls of all manner. Things that are soft. Things that click. Things that can be taken apart and put back together. Some of them talk. Many do not. Some choose to move. Most do not. Some are bigger than others. But most of them are small. It likes small things. Things that wanted to be small. Things like you, maybe. Places for those things, also. Places that are not shelves. The Shelves, as a name, is sufficient. The things here seem to like it. And It likes names, on other places and things. Names are easier to archive. To keep. Many of Its things have names. Many of those names were given by It. All of Its things like their names.
Places in The Shelves. Dollhouses. Trinket boxes. Articles of clothing, not otherwise archived. It will be more specific when places become relevant. In other documents, about easier subjects. Not every thing has a place. Floors, shelves, corners and crannies fill their needs. Its things always have their needs met, even needs that don't look like needs.
The Vivariums. Borrowed concept. Places for life. Worlds inside this world. Some of them are small, and made of glass. Some of them have small entrances, leading to living dioramas. Places where It feels larger, freer. Where Its things can be small without being small. Things that want to be human, but not in the ways that humans are humans. Humans that are still Things. Different than the humans they used to be. Other vivariums are a variety of ecosystems. Natural places. For things between human and other living beings. Real beings, imagined beings. Sometimes the line between beings and things is difficult. The archives are always changing. Accomodating these interesting things, that are part thing and part being.
Other places. Places It hasnt thought to mention here, as this series is for documenting Things, so It is inclined to talk about places these things belong.
This chapter is meant to describe It. You may realize It has difficulty describing Itself. Collector is not a name. Collector is the kind of thing It is. Most of It's things have names, but It doesn't want a name. It only wants to collect, and document, and share. So It describes where It lives to you. And now It explains what It does.
Collecting is similar to hunting, if hunting made life new instead of releasing it. Sometimes, It leaves Its world to find new things. Things that are still people, but shouldn't be. It can see their hearts, even when they cannot. In those hearts, desire. It likes desire. It likes to grant desire. Inward desire. It finds the ones that want to be things, and follows them. Learns how real that desire is. Sometimes a desire happens once, and disappears. These do not make for good things. These are the ones that will regret that desire. Very difficult to make those things back into humans. It doesn't like to do that. But it also doesn't like to have things that shouldn't be things. Its home is small, and should only have small things in it.
During collecting, It has to make Itself real. It will wear convenient names for this, when needed. Monster. Angel. Demon. Entity. Whatever Its prospective thing understands It to be. All good things eventually learn to speak around these words. The very good things learn to think around them. When It is real, It has a shape. It tries different ones, but enjoys having a mask. A mask with a heart on it. It believes this is better than a face. A keyhole, looking for keys. Keys that are desires. Desires that are yours, for a place you will fit inside of. It has skin, of no human color. more for feeling than for seeing. A roughly human shape, again for understanding, but also because humans also often desire things shaped like humans. It sometimes makes these desires real before It takes these things. It enjoys to know other desires, even if It doesnt keep them. When not collecting, it does not have a form that words should describe, except when It is using one to fulfill desires. It takes pride in doing this, even if It doesn't share those sorts of desires.
It enjoys archiving, though It isn't an archivist. It likes to have a collection, and collections are easier appreciated when archived. It hopes to collect a suitable archivist, but will play Its own part in recording when It doesn't have one.
It believes this is all the explaination It requires. It knows itself, and leaves this as a courtesy for the archivist and the satisfaction of clarity.