(i tried to post this and it didn’t show up, so here i am posting it again :) ...anyway, i started this thing with an idea and it was going to be this grand story about the effects of war but i never got around to finishing it, as i never do with anything i make!! love that!! anyway, it’s a lil shitty but here anyway :/)
in a dream i had once, i was fat and happy.
not fat in the sense that i had too much meat on my body, but fat in the sense that i never went more than a day hungry, and my skin did not stick to my bones like wet hair on the back of your neck. joints did not jut out from underneath my skin, my hair was bright and lively as if god had woven it together with flecks of golden sunlight, and to the touch my skin was velvet soft. they say that the eyes are the window to the soul, and i would say that in that dream my eyes told all—one would not have to look hard to see the joy bursting with exuberance in my heart past those flecks of emerald.
there was so much color.
you could see it everywhere you turned; even in the most faded of hues there would be a sense of vitality within like something i've never seen before. rainy days might've been dull in that dreamworld, but i saw a sublime amalgamation of grays and blues and sickly greens that had the unearthly power to make me feel something, to instill into me an emotion, real and true. and the most beautiful thing of it all was that with the colors i knew that there was life as well (one cannot exist without the other, i've decided): people, plants, animals; i even considered those abiotic factors—the rain, the soil, the sunlight—a part of life, a part of what made this world so breathtaking.
i enjoyed the spring the most.
i liked to think of it as a rebirthing of life, when all the things which had settled down and hid away or died during the winter rejoiced in the splendid realization that spring was right around the corner. a new generation of plants blossomed from the ground which they had been hiding away under, animals returned from hibernation or from their travels to great, far away places, children played underneath the warmth of the sun, and in all of this i could feel an underlying sense of gaiety. even when the spring offered her harshest of storms, brightness always followed. it is impossible to describe something so magnificent and yet so subtle.