When I was a man, life was simple. Ever since I became a tree, it's been brutal. You may say that I'm grumpy but I really don't care. Your opinion is not my problem and your judgement will always be flittering in the air. For eight years I grew to be a beautiful aspen and intertwined my roots with other trees. My friends are dear to me and it will always be that way.
One day a man decides that ripping us apart would make it easier to build. He got a shovel and an axe and went to work. I watched him with despair. I was giving him life and it didn't matter. He didn't care at all. All I was to him was an obstacle. After the span of three days, I was out of the ground with nothing left. They cut me into many different shapes. My limbs spread quickly, my spirit being stretched far and wide. A German man bought every last piece of me. He ended up turning me into miniature trees.
How funny people are that they make me into replicas of my past. People thought I was beautiful even though I was an epitome of death. Why do you love death? I used to generate parts of your life. Now I look the same. The only difference is that I am of no use to you. Was I like this as a man? Greedy? Careless? I hope not. I hope that I was part of the few that cherished every life form as their own.
Now I sit on people's shelf unable to do a thing. People look and say " Where did you get such a magnificent piece of art". The owners lie and tell them the name of the artist. I wasn't built by an artist. I sprouted firmly from the ground. The artist was one of the many that ruined me. Please tell everyone my story. Hear my plea to stop. I will keep trying to convince you but humans aren't fond of listening. Human nature at it's finest is when a human being fights for all life forms not just their own. So yeah sure I'm grumpy. But can you really blame me?
