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We are all intertwined with the fabric of life, and we all seek success. In many ways we are not unlike the forms in the place our ancestors used to swing. We are just as parasetic as any poison ivy could ever hope to be, with the ultimate goal the target. There is time for no-one else. We reach towards the light in a desperate, almost haphazard, sort of way, much like the trees that crane their twisted limbs toward the Sun. We all seek to be the victor, to win by any means possible, inadvertently strangling the life out of all those who either seek to oppose us, or who are simply in the wrong place and the wrong time.
Because, much like the parasetic fungi in the deepest regions of the Amazon, we will use anything we can catch hold of with our gnarled and grimey mitts, to extort it for our own personal gain. When we have a grip on something we won't let go. We simply keep our limbs tightly clenched around the thing until we have sucked all we need out of it, to truly use anything for our own gain.
Out there, they say, life is unpredictable and the winter's harsh. Yet, in this life, the rat race, we are all in a constant battle for supremacy and some form of recognition. Just like the feral scavengers of the deep forests of Virginia, only the stongest survive. Those who are strongest or perhaps more adapted to a certain task will maul the competition, much like the trees that reach out in the vain hope of one day reaching the Sun and the top of that elusive canopy.
All in life is intertwined, connected, a part of something else. In our lives we struggle to be a part of something and yet at the same time stand tall and proud above it. This web of life we lead has knock-on effects to everyone and everything around us, much like the untamed expanses of forest. Many things are murky and unclear, while nothing is ever what it seems.
We are not who we want to be, living a life of denial, insecurity and uncertainty. At any moment the delicate line we tread could be completely overhauled into a downhill slide we may never recover from. So, just like the wilds of the forest, we live an uncertain and untamed lifestyle. Nothing is ever what it seems and nothing is set in stone.
Time affects the forest as it affects us, it never waits and keeps the endless moving. Things evolve and change, the place is never quite the same as it was before, in much the same way that people can change in such a vast number of ways. Time ages the things in the woods as it ages us in the rat-race, we are all simply its figures in the game of life. The relentless march of time is never ceasing, not once relenting.
We and the woods are not so dissimilar as it may at first seem...
Because, much like the parasetic fungi in the deepest regions of the Amazon, we will use anything we can catch hold of with our gnarled and grimey mitts, to extort it for our own personal gain. When we have a grip on something we won't let go. We simply keep our limbs tightly clenched around the thing until we have sucked all we need out of it, to truly use anything for our own gain.
Out there, they say, life is unpredictable and the winter's harsh. Yet, in this life, the rat race, we are all in a constant battle for supremacy and some form of recognition. Just like the feral scavengers of the deep forests of Virginia, only the stongest survive. Those who are strongest or perhaps more adapted to a certain task will maul the competition, much like the trees that reach out in the vain hope of one day reaching the Sun and the top of that elusive canopy.
All in life is intertwined, connected, a part of something else. In our lives we struggle to be a part of something and yet at the same time stand tall and proud above it. This web of life we lead has knock-on effects to everyone and everything around us, much like the untamed expanses of forest. Many things are murky and unclear, while nothing is ever what it seems.
We are not who we want to be, living a life of denial, insecurity and uncertainty. At any moment the delicate line we tread could be completely overhauled into a downhill slide we may never recover from. So, just like the wilds of the forest, we live an uncertain and untamed lifestyle. Nothing is ever what it seems and nothing is set in stone.
Time affects the forest as it affects us, it never waits and keeps the endless moving. Things evolve and change, the place is never quite the same as it was before, in much the same way that people can change in such a vast number of ways. Time ages the things in the woods as it ages us in the rat-race, we are all simply its figures in the game of life. The relentless march of time is never ceasing, not once relenting.
We and the woods are not so dissimilar as it may at first seem...
More philosophy than story, but I like. If there are some really good stories to come, it may get pushed out of the top three, but I do like it.
You always do short but great stories TNC.
Nor would they have any reason to...
Grand stuff, tnc.
Found it highly thought-provoking and well written.
Nicely done.
Grand stuff, tnc.
Found it highly thought-provoking and well written.
Nicely done.
Don't moan, at least nobody's said it was crap.
A little more constructive maybe...
Not bad.
Rai wrote:
> *claps*
*Claps even louder* That was great.
> *claps*
*Claps even louder* That was great.
*claps*
We are all intertwined with the fabric of life, and we all seek success. In many ways we are not unlike the forms in the place our ancestors used to swing. We are just as parasetic as any poison ivy could ever hope to be, with the ultimate goal the target. There is time for no-one else. We reach towards the light in a desperate, almost haphazard, sort of way, much like the trees that crane their twisted limbs toward the Sun. We all seek to be the victor, to win by any means possible, inadvertently strangling the life out of all those who either seek to oppose us, or who are simply in the wrong place and the wrong time.
Because, much like the parasetic fungi in the deepest regions of the Amazon, we will use anything we can catch hold of with our gnarled and grimey mitts, to extort it for our own personal gain. When we have a grip on something we won't let go. We simply keep our limbs tightly clenched around the thing until we have sucked all we need out of it, to truly use anything for our own gain.
Out there, they say, life is unpredictable and the winter's harsh. Yet, in this life, the rat race, we are all in a constant battle for supremacy and some form of recognition. Just like the feral scavengers of the deep forests of Virginia, only the stongest survive. Those who are strongest or perhaps more adapted to a certain task will maul the competition, much like the trees that reach out in the vain hope of one day reaching the Sun and the top of that elusive canopy.
All in life is intertwined, connected, a part of something else. In our lives we struggle to be a part of something and yet at the same time stand tall and proud above it. This web of life we lead has knock-on effects to everyone and everything around us, much like the untamed expanses of forest. Many things are murky and unclear, while nothing is ever what it seems.
We are not who we want to be, living a life of denial, insecurity and uncertainty. At any moment the delicate line we tread could be completely overhauled into a downhill slide we may never recover from. So, just like the wilds of the forest, we live an uncertain and untamed lifestyle. Nothing is ever what it seems and nothing is set in stone.
Time affects the forest as it affects us, it never waits and keeps the endless moving. Things evolve and change, the place is never quite the same as it was before, in much the same way that people can change in such a vast number of ways. Time ages the things in the woods as it ages us in the rat-race, we are all simply its figures in the game of life. The relentless march of time is never ceasing, not once relenting.
We and the woods are not so dissimilar as it may at first seem...
Because, much like the parasetic fungi in the deepest regions of the Amazon, we will use anything we can catch hold of with our gnarled and grimey mitts, to extort it for our own personal gain. When we have a grip on something we won't let go. We simply keep our limbs tightly clenched around the thing until we have sucked all we need out of it, to truly use anything for our own gain.
Out there, they say, life is unpredictable and the winter's harsh. Yet, in this life, the rat race, we are all in a constant battle for supremacy and some form of recognition. Just like the feral scavengers of the deep forests of Virginia, only the stongest survive. Those who are strongest or perhaps more adapted to a certain task will maul the competition, much like the trees that reach out in the vain hope of one day reaching the Sun and the top of that elusive canopy.
All in life is intertwined, connected, a part of something else. In our lives we struggle to be a part of something and yet at the same time stand tall and proud above it. This web of life we lead has knock-on effects to everyone and everything around us, much like the untamed expanses of forest. Many things are murky and unclear, while nothing is ever what it seems.
We are not who we want to be, living a life of denial, insecurity and uncertainty. At any moment the delicate line we tread could be completely overhauled into a downhill slide we may never recover from. So, just like the wilds of the forest, we live an uncertain and untamed lifestyle. Nothing is ever what it seems and nothing is set in stone.
Time affects the forest as it affects us, it never waits and keeps the endless moving. Things evolve and change, the place is never quite the same as it was before, in much the same way that people can change in such a vast number of ways. Time ages the things in the woods as it ages us in the rat-race, we are all simply its figures in the game of life. The relentless march of time is never ceasing, not once relenting.
We and the woods are not so dissimilar as it may at first seem...