it all went to saw dust

As a kid, traveling by car, I would gaze out my window and to the leafy green trees that stuck out the ground and reached their branches to the fiery red ball in the sky.  And I’d wonder.  I’d wonder so long sometimes my brain would liquidize to a mushy pulp and slush around inside splashing against skull-boned walls at every turn of the vehicle.  The ferocious waters of my brain drowned and suffocated the sturdiest of boats full of the hardiest of sailing men who once sailed across every ocean known to their kind.  These dark blue waves of thinking made me a nauseated mess (and for that matter they still do today; but the difference—a cure I discovered with curiosity—writing, to release rampant tsunamis of thoughts from my head).

In the car, the trees marveled every sense in my small seven-year old body.  I’d ask my parents about the peculiar, younger looking trees that stood in the median.

“Why are trees growing justly in fashion, right there?” and further, more deep into an issue that would’ve been beyond my knowledge capacity I’d inquire what it was like before.  Were there always asphalt paths that marked the earth and led to city centers?

My parents would answer bleakly and simply. “No. Nothing but trillions of trees.”

“So, practically nothing,” my brother would follow up in a similar, but more dream-defeating tone and laughter would ensue.

But my little brain, melting at this point, would argue, “Nothing?!”  At the beginnings of learning about photosynthesis I pondered upon why the human race would chop down the very life supply, the food to our lungs (still, baffled I am).

And now, with the liquidation of my brain, I wonder why anyone would liquidize the people, Native to these lands, who lived peacefully in a time and place, considered of nothing.


tree in window


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