I must see myself for the monster I am and admit my wrong doings in the eyes of the Trees. I cry into their bark to no avail. Everything around me is dark, damp, dew drips. Everything is abstract and vague. I'm in a nightmare. I forgot where I am hours ago. All I hear is trees with big open mouths crying on me and spitting sap at me. Families of Oaks and Pines who were hurt by the genocide humans did for papyrus. I beg them for forgiveness but they only mock me for being cruel to them all these years. They remind me of everytime I used paper. The stacks of WB Mason I bought to print shipping labels on. Every single manual in every single one of my video games and how their families died for it.
Things have gotten increasingly dark in tone and the further I search for answers the more lost I become.
The trees hum Plastic... Plastic.... Plastic in a satanic cult manner with intervals of 4 seconds. I assume subliminally making me feel guilt for plastic waste. They don't move, they don't follow, they stand tall, eerily and full of distaste of me.
Why do we assume trees don't have souls? Just because they can't scream doesn't mean they can't feel pain. They scream inside, they feel iradiating pain as chainsaws shred through their rings of bark through their cells. We kill their sons. Here for the fruits of love and oxygen but abused for the fruits of greed.
R.I.P Trees.
