its an urge to exfoliate the surface of my thoughts and dust the remnants on paper; to later decipher the lucid dream sequence of events that lead up to my feet touching the ground and inevitably making a sound that i cannot control. and i look at my body and im turning into a cactus. my limbs are shifting and creating a being that isn't me, and i don't seem to care about my torso although my legs begin to irritate me and they make me want to get rid of them, so i begin to snap and trim each needle and sin and i hate the plant that i've become. the aptitude of my body is so soulless that soon i feel i will morph into a kitchen counter or a mirror or a window in which i climb out of to escape the being of nothingness thats been created. now what i dare ask myself? now that i am equal parts water as i am mind, how do i drink to quench my thirst for dryness? ah, i wonder why its all relative and why darwin decided to tell us things egyptians hid beneath the temples of stone that erected over night. and i consider the forests erected over years and i fear i'll never understand them. and this samsara merry-go-round is giving me motion sickness and im wandering into the fog far away from myself and planting my roots with all the other cacti of confusion. you can find me there.
Visit her full site, "nature vs people", here. Be sure to read "pretentious idealists", it was a close second for my personal favourite.
Photos courtesy of Vanessa Handford's facebook.