7. floresta.txt

One should say to himself: i am a forest. One should silently stare into the river while it endlessly flows and say to himself: i am a forest. As a forest, i grow, i stretch my leaves into the sun, i suck up the moist from the dirt, i feast on endless deaths and lives and juicy fruits filled with seeds.

A forest does not dream, unless it is conscious. So, do the living creatures in it's green vast grounds and air account for consciouscness? could they write if time was theirs favorable?
Is the planet earth and it's endless sea living, air breathing, hair growing and love making? that i do not know, for i am only a forest.

A forest, as innocent and peacefull as it seems, has consumed planet earth, it has poisoned our atmosphere with oxygen and spread it's earth shattering and water sucking roots all over it's soils, it has reached far into the skies daring to challenge gravity itself, growing higher and higher, while burying itself deeper, and deeper and deeper. So as a tree i find a balance, i am symetrical on all planes, breathing with all of me, seizing all that i am given, idealizing every stimulae, no lesser part of me is lesser than me.

A forest does not fight back against machines, it does not rage and charge into survival. I listen, i wait, i hide where i can not be found, i find myself where i cannot be found and i stay true, forever true, to being born again, and again, and again.

novembro, Tomar.