19 November, 2009

The year eleven was a season of discovery on the countryside and has since taken root deeply throughout my internal soil. Simultaneously being compelled to, yet lonesome in the natural world.
I would go out to the pastures after school and roam around with the cows. I had it in my mind, that if I got on all Fours and roamed around, nibbling grass and peeing in the field with abandon, the herd would welcome me in. They would welcome me into their cud chewing family. It Would not matter that I couldn't’t really chew cud or had to unsnap my britches to pee. My small green eyes would lock with their Moon eyes in sisterhood, in familial unity. In an ideal world They would accept my smell and we would spend the afternoons well into the winter months, communing and mooing.
Until they were taken to Johnson City for slaughter.

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