Have you ever been in the middle of a forest?
I mean so submerged your senses stop,
And your eyes struggle to focus as the fog fills the forest?
Who’s to say the trees are smothering me? Isn’t that up to your perception of how the trees treat the viewee? Can’t I skew the scales, and let the trees and shrubs hug me?
Can’t I use the warmth of these trees to fuel the fire inside my empty head? Can’t I accept their embrace?
So who’s to say the trees are smothering me?
So Shakespeare said,
“And this, our life, exempt from public haunt,
finds tongues in trees,
books in the running brooks,
sermons in stones,
and good in everything.“
Tell me why I agree with the trees when they say your habits are toxic.
You are toxic. Get out of my life.
Thank you, maybe next time, we can visit the trees together,
Take your dainty hands and mine too into beauty and deep depths of trees and darkness and fog.
Hurting hands, how can we repair you?
Your callous frame just sitting there while I cry.
You were not made for me. I digress,
The trees are not smothering me. They are simply lulling me into a state of submission. Of transcendence.
Transcendence to a fractal other-world in the other place. The other orientation to this one, the one out there. The one we will never see — or ever come into contact with. The other world.
Being in the centre, and I mean the furthest away from any edge at any time, right in the middle of it all, in the deepest darkest most foggiest crevice of the thickness of the forest…
Helps the human body and mind transcend into something else. Past the realms of psychology – into the transcendent ether-realms. into the lands in which you have never stepped – into a place filled with nothing but love and understanding and encouragement for growth. You’ll love it here. You should engross your mind in the trees next time you need a cleanse. A spiritual cleanse. Enter the transcendent schism — transcendent psychology.
The trees help. Try the trees.
Oh, and don’t get me started on the weed.