i can not stop thinking about how trees and blood vessels look so much alike it makes me go crazy it makes me go stoopid and my heart aches and i cry
I’ve been thinking about how trees resemble, far too close, our blood vessels. That perhaps the same red flooding through my veins once ran free through the roots of the oak outside the porch. That I am alive the same way nature is, that I am part of something bigger, something that shelters me. Maybe if I lie down on the grass my heartbeats will match the humming of the earth, maybe if I stay here long enough my hair, too, will bloom in flowers. I think that these moments, these little details, are nothing but evidence of being alive. So long as trees grow and get stronger with time, so will my body, so will myself.
folks, I’m just gonna say it. I don’t think it rains for long enough periods of time. it rains hard, it sounds good, I’m comfortable inside, but within 5 minutes the jig is up. the dream is over. I think it should rain for longer periods of time than it presently does
