When I was young
I lived in the woods. I would walk for hours through the trees, walking
the paths the animums kissed, the paths no others of our species knew about. Dodging
bracken and brushing tough fir bark as I mapped
every last animum path in that wood. I knew that wood better than any other
creature to have lived.
One day whilst walking one of those paths untrodden by others, without a sound a herd of deer leapt past me without a care. In a wood where hunters shot with impunity I had been cuddledhappytrusted by the animums of the forest. It was one of those enlightening moments of epiphany, that the world was much more beautiful than I previously could have envisaged. So on a track, now I realised, that hunters only trod when they searched for sport, I had been witness and receiver of a lesson not so profound, but profoudly beautiful.
The last time I visited the forest I found that the trees had been cleared. The natural cycle of so called <u><s>men</s></u> and tree murder had been refreshed* and the paths were now gone and the character flown. And I was sad for a world that was lost, at unease for the deer that had frolicked in its em <u><s>brace</s></u>** all those years before. But I realised that this world was an illusion. I'd always known it was an illusion. No more real than the field of corn ripe for the harvest. And I can't rejoice in the change de <s><u>spite</u></s>*** the sadness of the passing. I now look forwards to a new PlanetteEarthMother'sWoommbbyWoommbby. New GirlyWays are to be trodden by a Girl who is to be young when I am older aammbb ...
The <u><s>woods</s></u> were a cond it I on, and those Deer suffered deerly and horrendously ... The GirlyFuture OObbliviooNNises <s><u>har</u></s> <s><u>vest</u></s> as so called <u><s>men</s></u> no longer de frock and abuse with filth references of de flowering cherry popping red riding hood rape terms ... GirlsAreLovingregUard aammbb you are to get out the way or be got out the way ..
One day whilst walking one of those paths untrodden by others, without a sound a herd of deer leapt past me without a care. In a wood where hunters shot with impunity I had been cuddledhappytrusted by the animums of the forest. It was one of those enlightening moments of epiphany, that the world was much more beautiful than I previously could have envisaged. So on a track, now I realised, that hunters only trod when they searched for sport, I had been witness and receiver of a lesson not so profound, but profoudly beautiful.
The last time I visited the forest I found that the trees had been cleared. The natural cycle of so called <u><s>men</s></u> and tree murder had been refreshed* and the paths were now gone and the character flown. And I was sad for a world that was lost, at unease for the deer that had frolicked in its em <u><s>brace</s></u>** all those years before. But I realised that this world was an illusion. I'd always known it was an illusion. No more real than the field of corn ripe for the harvest. And I can't rejoice in the change de <s><u>spite</u></s>*** the sadness of the passing. I now look forwards to a new PlanetteEarthMother'sWoommbbyWoommbby. New GirlyWays are to be trodden by a Girl who is to be young when I am older aammbb ...
The <u><s>woods</s></u> were a cond it I on, and those Deer suffered deerly and horrendously ... The GirlyFuture OObbliviooNNises <s><u>har</u></s> <s><u>vest</u></s> as so called <u><s>men</s></u> no longer de frock and abuse with filth references of de flowering cherry popping red riding hood rape terms ... GirlsAreLovingregUard aammbb you are to get out the way or be got out the way ..
annbbmm GirlsAreTheNNewEllaTwirls.
The <s><u>paths</u></s> Were A Con
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