(no subject)
Science is the death of creativity.
Everything we do has been done before, wash, rinse, repeat.
It makes it easier, I guess, on days when I feel like I'm just going through the motions.
I want to go climb trees. I want to lose myself in a huge, dark, fairytale forest where the trees have old magic, and you can climb higher and higher until you're towering above the world, but when you look around you're still cradled in this vast blanket of green.
I want to look around and be the only person in the world, just me and the trees, for miles and miles and miles. And I'll stretch across the highest limbs and rest my cheek against the smooth, cool bark, and stare down into the sky and watch the sun fade slowly past the earth, and one by one the stars will appear around me until there's nothing but light, shining in some infinate elaborate dance that's ever so slightly beyond comprehension.
And staring down into the black, I want to float away.
Everything we do has been done before, wash, rinse, repeat.
It makes it easier, I guess, on days when I feel like I'm just going through the motions.
I want to go climb trees. I want to lose myself in a huge, dark, fairytale forest where the trees have old magic, and you can climb higher and higher until you're towering above the world, but when you look around you're still cradled in this vast blanket of green.
I want to look around and be the only person in the world, just me and the trees, for miles and miles and miles. And I'll stretch across the highest limbs and rest my cheek against the smooth, cool bark, and stare down into the sky and watch the sun fade slowly past the earth, and one by one the stars will appear around me until there's nothing but light, shining in some infinate elaborate dance that's ever so slightly beyond comprehension.
And staring down into the black, I want to float away.