We forest fairies, we infinite branches; infinite roots, we fire-tested, and storm-lasted; always and growth; forever and a day - the life of a tree; unending, unending, unending.
you should know i am a time traveler & there is no season as achingly temporary as now
We, feathered-fairies, under the guise of sunlight, with twisted wing and mournful-song... we, friends of the air, we, nests among sunbeams, we, never-never gone, we, never-never fire, we never-never ash, we never-never yesterday - only air, only breaths, only flight, only tomorrow.
you should know i am a time traveler & there is no season as achingly temporary as now
the bird 500 leagues under the ocean's surface, wings-almost-gill-like, almost-angel-like, a parable for heaven, and the song unsung under my soul's surface - 500 leagues deep, lungs-almost-water-logged, almost-sea-sunk; so many many dreams upon the ocean floor.
you should know i am a time traveler & there is no season as achingly temporary as now
I’d heard he had started a fistfight in one of the seedier local taverns because someone had insisted on saying the word “utilize” instead of “use". — Patrick Rothfuss, A Wise Man's Fear
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