This may end up being a complete mess but I'm gonna attempt it.
So put on your seatbelts and join me as I prove to myself I'll never be an author!
Sometimes breathing gets hard. Sometimes I feel like giving up. And sometimes I want to climb as high as I can go, look down on humanity and let go. Sometimes I feel like falling could mean freedom.
But whenever I do climb up, Up as high as possible, I look down and instead of letting go, I hold on tighter. Desperate, because a minuscule part of me loves humanity.
I love their flaws and their perfections. I love the way they spin lies like it's their second nature. I love the way they promise to do better but never keep it. But most of all I how they create.
They look for beauty everywhere they go. And when that can't find it, they create it. They shape their world into a wonder.
I've always wondered, how can they see allure in the contemptible universe.
It was the complex beauty, sickening and delightful, that had me holding on.
But today, when I climbed, my grip was looser than the other days.
The trees whispered for me to let go. The birds swooped down and tried to convince me to fly with them. The clouds dropped rain on me. Hoping to make me fall.
It won't hurt, they whispered. Come be free.
I understood why. There wasn't much left here. The Earth was scarred and damaged. The people cruel and delusional.
So as the wind swept over me and the vines crept closer.
I let go.
And I fell.
Sorry it's so short. The next chapter will be longer I promise. And it'll have more of a plot.