I had had it. I had had enough. Living on the ground had finally got to me. The people annoyed me, the buildings annoyed me and god save me, everything annoyed me. And up until recently there was nothing I could do. If I could just leave the ground, I thought I would be happy, be free of everything. And since the clouds were out of reach and beyond the capacity of my lungs I had to stay here. Until I noticed the trees. I could live in the trees.
Thats when people began to notice me making tree houses. And when they ignored me. And thought I was insane. But I didn’t care. It was my plan and I was determined to make it work. Days and nights fluttered away in a haze of wood and leaves. I even managed a beard, maintaining a rugged…ish look.
I still have the beard. And a collection of tree houses which I dwell in. Amongst the leaves I watch the birds sing and dance, squirrels darting from trunk to trunk and with no other humans around spiders building colossal webs. The ground is now a distant memory the people even more so. The occasionally look up and point but they are so far away now that they are inconsequential.
Its nice up here. You should join me. The sun is filtering through the leaves now, entwined with bird song. And with that I shall leave you. You know, unless you come up here.
Inspired by a conversation with my friend Rachel.