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Writer's pictureEmmanuel V. d'Aboville

I must...

Updated: Mar 30, 2020




It is a curiosity how capable I am to be lazy. How I can stay sitting for hours on end. In a sort of awe, where I am in quiet contemplation of the world. A chain of thoughts let me know that I am Alive, that all this is real. The time that passes is filled with new moments of unique configuration that enter the world, and make it. My senses give me the awareness of what is around, and here I exist.


It is a fearful feeling as well, I can be fully aware of the sin I am committing. The sloth in me is broken, self loathing, because of it's self awareness of the endless time that has passed with nothing to show no trace, if not only the knowledge that I have for so long done nothing. I haven't done anything.


And so I must look up, see what's in front, around. A garden. Plants. One plant in particular.

It is there, it is... Marvelous. It stands strong and tall. And has very slowly grown into its present pose.


Fitting perfectly into all this.


Now I know why.


Yes I remember.


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