Thursday, April 30, 2009 6:50 PM
Rubies, pearls and jewels. A magazine loaded with bullets.
Police! Police! I've lost my precious things. I need to find it desperately but I just simply cannot. I cannot remember the way I walked just now. The trees seem to be playing a trick on me. Everytime I turn my back towards them, they get up and run about. When I turn back, they stop and grin at me from tree branch to tree branch.
These dead leaves and dead falls and all the dead things in these trees deserve to die.
But the 7 Up I am holding in my hand is slipping away, floating away slowly. The clean pair of socks are disintergrating. The jet black hair of mine is turning grey. What do I want in life? I want my luxuries back.
Contacted! The enemies prones on the ground fill of thorny branches trying to protect themselves. I splat right onto a blotch of wet mud and my entire uniform turns brown. They dry and they cake. I become a brown man instead of a green one. Guards! Protect your own life. Run like the wind. Wrong. Fly like a Gryphon!
Every single muscle in my body is in pain. But pain always remind us that we exist. So for now, my form is the most human, most tangible and most humane. I am here. Look at me! Look at me hold that long bamboo tree look alike and pretend I am a panda trying to hug the tree. And then I fall. But now I am the tree and the stongest winds are swaying me to and forth, to and forth. I am being uprooted. Brain drain.
I am 'inconfident'. Inconfident? Is that even a word?
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
