Green is not a creative color

Picture, if you will, a desert.

Imagine the skeleton of some poor animal who tried to make it past this barren wasteland in the hopes of finding salvation. Feel the bones, yellow with age and rough from years of facing the elements.

Hark! On the horizon: a lone figure marches up the sandy hillside, their weak legs struggling to go on. Their skin is brown and peeling from so many days under the sun. It is clear from their vacant expression that they recognize the magnitude of their situation; there is no way they will survive this place.

This desert will be their grave. They take a few more shaky steps before collapsing into the sand, the exhaustion they had grown accustomed to finally overtaking them. There, in that dusty hell, they take their last breath.

A low moan fills the air. The moan is the very essence of pain, of years of death and sorrow. It seems to be coming from within the ground. The Earth mother, Gaea, laments the loss of yet another soul in this foul place. As she sings her soft funeral song, she parts her sands, allowing the dead traveler to sink withing the folds of her mantle, deeper, deeper, until there is nothing left.

Well, friends, that desert is my mind and that skeleton is every idea I’ve had in the last three weeks. And that traveler is me? Idk, that metaphor kinda got away from me. The point I am trying to get across is that I am carefully considering the suggestions I received on my last post and am trying to put together new ideas that will hopefully make this blog ten times more awesome.

Until then, please enjoy this video:

Kiana.

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