It's beautiful isn't i? The landscape, Nature stripped from human ingenuity. It’s a perfect world, where every wild flower in a bunch or lonesome has its place. Together they light the ground as we conquer, provide a route when we wander, show us hope when we ponder, and display its beauty when we encounter, ourselves. I was free from blame here, and this is where I came as a child to put my fears at rest.
Unlike the times I have now, when I was a child, this dream had another element: The bunnies sprinting along the meadow: the green, the blues, and the purples. They would sprint so effortlessly. Now that I’m older all I see is the darkest black, and the lightest white. Their coats have lost all color, and they won’t sprint and hop, they don’t skip and smile, they don’t prance along mindlessly: they just trudge along frighteningly. My imagination is shot; it now takes an effort to see the colors. It takes an effort to imagine nothing. That’s all this is, it’s nothing. I miss when it was simple to just imagine, nothing: the meadow, the bunnies. But I have been tainted, and corrupted, and I lost my ingenuousness long ago.
No comments:
Post a Comment