When you see the God of a man walk down the street…
Your heart is like..
Whenever you see or interact with him you’re like..
When you find out he has a girlfriend you’re like…
So you challenge her for her man….
She looks like…
You look like…
It’s been a long-lasting image, right up there with a large bed covered in white cloudy blankets sitting in the middle of the road. We sit around an old wooden dining table, adorned with tall, colored candles and a lace tablecloth and wildflowers. A partial curtain of willow tree branches nearly secludes us from the field we sit in, from the rest of the world, and a chandelier dangles from the branches above our heads. It’s a pleasantly cool evening, and we sit in comfort talking over our meal. We dine on crackers and cheese, and then foreign noodles and exotic soups, and we drink tea or milk from glass teacups. My cup has blue flowers around the rim, and the handle curls in an original way. We all have different cups; some with pink flowers or green ivy, some with gold accents. Our glass plates, too, are each different, and our silverware. It’s all effortlessly mismatched, yet somehow has become a beautiful cohesion, like us. Destiny, you’re there. You created a large part of what happens later. Faith, this is your field we’re in. And we need you here to appreciate how Diana has done her hair. Diana, you’ve never been so happy. Here, with us, you are free. James, there may not come a time when you’re able to express how wonderful you find this, how phenomenally pleased you are in these moments. Sophia, you’re pink with smiles. We all adore the comments you make, we adore your presence. Daniel, this is the lifestyle of your dreams. You are dressed like Sherlock Holmes and sharing your beautifully abstract ideas with those around you. We grant each other our sincere attention and ask you questions, and laugh with you. Kevin, your creativity keeps blossoming. We experience as you give and take and we take and give, and there’s no denying that we understand each other. Jonas, you keep closing your eyes and smiling. It’s as if you haven’t had the chance to absorb such purity, such innocence, in decades. Together, we are all so young. Michelle, you love this. You thrive off of this; that’s what makes you and I the same. Reed, this is unlike anything you’ve experienced before. Perhaps before now, you weren’t even sure it was possible. Katelyn, I want you to be here too. You stay mostly quiet as your mind wraps around how poetic and profoundly beautiful all of This is. Mike, it’s been so long since you let yourself stop caring. Here, you don’t have to care. Here, we are all the very definition of carefree. We all deserve that, and until now we’d almost forgotten what it’s like, to embrace something not because we should, but because a far deeper part of us truly wants to. The food disappears piece at a time as we share stories and ideas, shouting across the table or folding into conversations of two or four people. It’s hard for any of us to realize that there are so many here, so many beautiful minds interacting so openly, so freely. This feels uncannily natural to us. At twilight, a time when the air is still bright yet we can see the stars, we take mason jars with lit candles inside from the knots in the tree, and wander through the field. We explore the tall tall grass and make a game of hiding by crouching down, letting the green enfold us. For every five rocks on the ground, there are two prisms emitting rainbows on their surroundings. Lightning bugs and butterflies skirt around us as we sit in circles in the grass, playing with each other’s hands and talking about trees and their personalities. We practice looking at souls by sitting and staring into each other’s eyes. A stream runs through the field, and we pluck fish out of the water and paint their scales with colors undreamed of. We place them back into the water, and we step in after them. The colors around us seep into our clothes and turn us into walking masterpieces. Somehow, from somewhere in the distance, music is playing. The faint sound of cellos lifts our conversations, causes us to contemplate those things which we had never before considered. It never gets completely dark. The moon and the smile of nature reflect off of our faces as we swing from giant trees in hanging beds shaped like teardrops. We don’t frighten each other, and so we sit close and share warmth as we continue describing the universes inside our minds. One by one, we fall asleep. We are curled up amongst one another, wrapped up in that feeling of complete contentedness which is fueled by the proof of beauty and absolute goodness that can be found in this world. We each dream, and it’s unlike anything we’ve imagined before.
- I don’t care.
- This is boring.
- What does that even mean?
- Those numbers are doing anal.
- I DON’T KNOW THE SUM OF 78987876 and Q.
- WHAT IS THIS FUCKERY.
- I’m going to fail.
- This class is so useless.
- I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS.
- I want to go home.
- I’m tired.
- LOL 69.