Feb 2012
I found the forest and did not understand at first but that’s to say we ever do which I doubt thoroughly, especially now.
The forest stretched out before me because I was in a clearing facing it and had not yet entered or entirely committed myself to the idea but that’s to say we ever do which I doubt thoroughly, especially now.
In the clearing I found the forest graceful. It had not swallowed this space of Earth. In this grace I found respect. That thriving beast forest easily could have dug itself into and over that clearing but did not.
I wondered whether the forest desired to **** this clearing but was not able to and in this way I found weakness but only more respect. I of all things am weak and understand this as a fact and who cannot respect oneself and things in which oneself is found, if only slightly, while still committed to this life?
Because I found myself in the forest and understood the forest to find itself in me I did not ask to enter but entered with grace as to promise good intent.
The forest was a monumental wall in front of me with no end left or right or end upward to the sky and I saw it was thick and sprawling and rich and could seem dead to someone who did not find himself in the forest, or the forest in him, but that is to say we living things are nothing of being dead which I doubt thoroughly, especially now.
The forest parted with the snapping of branches and the groan of life though life imagined. I did not sense natural life and, in this snapping and these groans, I must argue, what is unnatural life if not life imagined?
The path before me was slightly taller than I and slightly wider and overgrown and with crooked limbs of wood. The arms of trees stuck out before me and I continued. The arms struggled to walk with me but were rooted to their trees which were rooted to the Earth. Spines of plants bent toward me as I crossed further into this realm and were pleased with this new thing called a man. In the path in the growth of the forest I strained to see clearly. The canopy was dark and thick above me and I could not see light from the sky above us both. What light made it through tossed itself about the silk webs, which were many, and the webs were symmetrical as they should be and I respected the order of the place. The forest was black and the diminished light was slightly less black except for many pairs of illuminated red lights that seemed to be eyes and followed me as eyes would and the eyes were bright and without harm.
The forest stretched out before me because I was in a clearing facing it and had not yet entered or entirely committed myself to the idea but that’s to say we ever do which I doubt thoroughly, especially now.
In the clearing I found the forest graceful. It had not swallowed this space of Earth. In this grace I found respect. That thriving beast forest easily could have dug itself into and over that clearing but did not.
I wondered whether the forest desired to **** this clearing but was not able to and in this way I found weakness but only more respect. I of all things am weak and understand this as a fact and who cannot respect oneself and things in which oneself is found, if only slightly, while still committed to this life?
Because I found myself in the forest and understood the forest to find itself in me I did not ask to enter but entered with grace as to promise good intent.
The forest was a monumental wall in front of me with no end left or right or end upward to the sky and I saw it was thick and sprawling and rich and could seem dead to someone who did not find himself in the forest, or the forest in him, but that is to say we living things are nothing of being dead which I doubt thoroughly, especially now.
The forest parted with the snapping of branches and the groan of life though life imagined. I did not sense natural life and, in this snapping and these groans, I must argue, what is unnatural life if not life imagined?
The path before me was slightly taller than I and slightly wider and overgrown and with crooked limbs of wood. The arms of trees stuck out before me and I continued. The arms struggled to walk with me but were rooted to their trees which were rooted to the Earth. Spines of plants bent toward me as I crossed further into this realm and were pleased with this new thing called a man. In the path in the growth of the forest I strained to see clearly. The canopy was dark and thick above me and I could not see light from the sky above us both. What light made it through tossed itself about the silk webs, which were many, and the webs were symmetrical as they should be and I respected the order of the place. The forest was black and the diminished light was slightly less black except for many pairs of illuminated red lights that seemed to be eyes and followed me as eyes would and the eyes were bright and without harm.
