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Now: October 25 (7:46 AM)

I’m running so fast I feel that my legs are on the brink of setting on fire.

The forest is a plethora of blurred colors:

green, brown, red, and orange tones.

Hearing the wind press into my ears slightly,

my pulse is racing

and the outside world can probably hear it

as vibrantly as

my feet rhythmically pound on the forest floor.

I can’t let my brain process my surroundings,

if it does, memories will start floating back.

I can’t. I can’t.

But neither can my lungs right now either,


fingers of my hand against the side of a tree trunk.

The leaves on the ground are covered in mildew from the rain

No crunch,

Rather, I get a slurpy, wet sound with every step I take.

The crisp air is refreshing to breathe in, it actually fills my lungs.

Hunch. Stare. Rest. Sit.

my back against the tree.

My heart rate s l o w s,

breathing regulates,



Surrounded by trees and leaves and plants of different shapes and hues.

The one.


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