seasonal affective disorder, injected with chlorophyll
Wandering in the now-vacant fields about the tall lush grass that reached my shoulders. Finding scents and bits of the spirit that fell into myself. And where was my own? Must've been denied upon entering. My body became less and less sexual in its normal biological reactions, though the grass grazed on my skin and murmured that I was very alluring and delectable and if I were to wander through these fields alone until my death, they would slowly savor my body in its decomposition. This last idea sounds very dark, but it was a natural thing to say for the element that may very well be my own. Dreams, you know. I wonder what sorts of materials each of us has that is foreign to the other. Materials not discovered within our gene pools!