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  • Sometimes the inescapable clutches of anxiety join forces with the florescent grasp of the inside world and together they try to strangle me. I don't like the feeling of the world closing in on me, I don't like the feeling of being trapped. So, I escape to the woods.

    I like the order of the trees, the yearning vertically of the tall canopies calms me. It reminds me to reach for brighter things, even if, like the sun, they are out of my reach. Each leaf on each spray seems to quake a little as if reaching so far is really hard, as if its physically painful to keep trying. But supporting the frail stems are stronger twigs and even stronger boughs all connected to grounded trunks. And supporting the entire longing entity are the roots, deep underground.

    The frail and shaking leaves, the leaves that seem as if they might give up and fall to the ground in despair at any point, cannot see the roots. They cannot see the underground limbs throbbing with a inextinguishable life force that hold them up. Even if sometimes the leaves are weak, there is something there that is stronger. Its nice to be reminded that sometimes the things that keep us standing when we feel like falling down are there, even if we cannot see them.
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