From up here the rivers and lakes look like veins. The ground is a live thing, a beast who demands to be obeyed. But we, but I, thought ourselves the exception, and flew from it, in mechanical bird. I fear its wrath, and I fear it's acceptance too. It this way it has one, it controls me, scares me, but at the same time, it frightens me just enough, the unknowness of it all, to revolt, to destroy. This earth that I see, this living breathing thing is the all powerful, but I am speeding away from it, showing man's gut and stupidity. The ocean is it's mouth, and for a second, I know it will swallow me whole. And I know it still will not be satisfied. Us the prey, and pray to all. It is too late. Surely, we will perish. But I look down into the mouth of my world, into an abyss, and I don't see anything. No tongue or teeth. I see just myself, I see us all, I see emptiness. On the ground when you look up, people see god and spirits there. I see them here, from above, looking below. I see them in the Earth, the creature, the creator and the destroyer.
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