I don't have the courage to do so, and I don't know anyone who does. Rewinding everything, turning it upside down and turning it upside down is as impossible as turning gold into silver. I could find an alchemist for that, but I'm centuries too late for that now. Even the formulas and secrets they say, know, and find are uncertain. They lived in geographies where everything was uncertain and stories turned into legends. They had witnessed things as fantastic as the difficulties I now feel. Anyway, this isn't the story of alchemists or fantasy heroes or monsters.
I am a tree of loneliness that has been cut into pieces, uprooted and thrown into other forests. I am looking for my roots, which are as bright as gold and as conductive as silver. My roots are the ones that best convey what I want to send to the earth and what the air wants to send me. I know some of it stayed there, a mad alchemist came and ripped me from there. He tricked my whole torso into gold with the promise that I could have a torso as heavy as my stupidity. Now I'm looking for my way back, on what grass had I come this far? I know I can find it, but I'm getting older every day. If my leaves fall, maybe I will relax.
May, 2023
by Demon Ego
0xd...171
