Rerum Concordia Discors:
Harmony of things through discord.

Depth. Blackened by night, by time smoothly passing over my senseless body. It is the smallest noise that begins to breathe air into my attention. As the orb of hydrogen and helium begin to react and raise into the smear of darkened purple, so do my eyelids. I wake my body and proceed to bring my thoughts to the edge of the mushroom, the clouds have no purpose besides filling the beautiful sky I used to know with puffs of debris. To always look up and be reminded that the sky is not the limit, but more of the product of all those that thought it was. It was those creatures, the ones that think they are smarter than the rest of us simply because their robots and gadgets can fill their empty dreams with blue ribbons given to those that can convince the judges of life that they need to spend the money. The silly ones that believed ripping living, breathing, life forms from their roots to replace them with these hard edged boxes would be in any way beneficial. Their incapability to harmonize with The World is quite regrettable, don’t you think?
Although, I am appreciative that Mother Earth relinquished them now and we do not have to worry about any more destruction. I am ready for the world to turn from concrete back to the tway it was, and the way it always will be. They were more of a cancer than anything else.
It is about giving as much as you take. Life is a balancing act. She allows you to explore all of her beautiful amenities, if greed seeps into your brain, the current breath shall be your last.
Then my mind awoke. Imagine a bed of warm moss, that never indents. Underneath my mushroom. It is not much but, much isn’t necessary. I am always the first one to wake up within the village. My illusions are hungry, I take a bite of the roof before laying on top of it. The swirls and the dips of the everchanging designs in the sky. Never simple, never elusive.


One day, I promise my head I will climb up those big forest trees, and live in the solar space forever. Floating, flowing. No where to go. I still have many years to form into remembrances before I can show that I have taken care of this luminous body of exquisiteness. We are all students of life.
I look down the valley to see the remains of the cities that did not last. Personally, I enjoy every breathe a bit more because they are gone. The air is cleaner, and the fear they instilled in me has passed. They were covered in too much greed to accept their wrong doing; to preserve what is our home. It is not just humans that died off because they never went close enough to the ground to hear all the secrets of how thy place in this game was; most of the previous life forms died too. Slugs went first, they were good neighbors. The placidity of it all has me wanting more breathes of all the serenity it gives off. After setting my gaze down the expanse of land, i see a small movement. I keep my focus on the gestures the near grass is making due to an outside force. It is a being, a living, breathing life form. But what more could it possibly be? I thought all the forms capable of moving grass ceased to exist. My first thought is it has to be an armadillidiidae, they never declare their presence, always sneaking up on everyone. After imitating their natural sounds, it is no longer a thought that that is what it is. Crawling closer, my heart rate rises, the excitement in me rises, my blood pressure rises. My eyes emotionally adjust to what could be behind those blades of security. I stay low incase it is a creature that could get violent. Sounds flow into my ear canals, repetitive tones that calm my nerves. The closer it becomes to me, a slithering sound triggers a thought. It slithers in and entangles my mind, since it was told that ability is no longer apart of any living being. The near blades begin to move; I move with the movement. When we face each other, we both get startled. A purple marked with orange fellow, two antennas. He is but a slug! My favorite shell-less creature. We both lock eyes and take a long pause, collecting our thoughts, calming our nerves. There was no form of tension between us as we gazed upon each other, no form of discomfort. The first word produced between us, the first word that broke our long string of silence came from deep down in his larynx.
“Nomad” his voice was soft, it was but a whisper that broke into a louder decimal, enough to begin to show his humbalitly.
A half smile smeared my face. I felt warm inside.
“I have been on this Earth for much time, my colony began to change the way it worked, obsessing over the future and before the effort was put in to all the change desired, I left. I was scared, overwhelmed. Traveling alone ever since.” Ever so often his words gave me a reason to smile. I knew there was not a single being that had tenderness for him since he began his long travels, this is what gave me attraction, feeling emotions, connections to and for him.

“You must be tired,” I cooed. “Come with me.” We walked, we walked a long while. I lead the way, only by reason of having an idea of where we were going. We had not stopped until a connection was there. I brought him to my mushroom, gave him a bite and showed him the glorious solar sky. He has never seen it through these pairs of eyes heretofore. Darkness dabbed, lightness began to pull away. Through the depth of the words that rolled off our tongue, rest was the last thing our minds would pierce with thought.
...
“And here we are, do you think any of us could ever journey to the field of stars, becoming one with them? I do not miss the blue and white, I love what mother has given us recently.” I could see his mind swirling around his thoughts. I pay attention to his movements, they are distinct. This was the moment I realized I have thoughts to share, and they will not be as easily said.
“It is more than a dream, the way to the sky is reachable. But first you must show you have deserved it. Mother is already getting her glow back, her finest chromas are awakening with her spirit as well. A balance is needed to survive; but to be the giver not the parasite is how it all strives. This is when She will give you eternal life, when She will disperse you into a new dimension of life. When you atomize and drift upwards into the sky, through the clouds by means of microscopoism. It does not stop there, time surpasses as you stretch the atoms you used to know that created your body itself, your mind. Thoughts used to pass through your blood canals, in between the mind buildings that deserved the diploma of life, signed by yours truly, Mother Earth. She kisses your cheek before breaking you down atomomically to disperse into the wide open solar system. Here you drift through no energy. The senses are vibrant. Seeing your sounds and tasting the hues of all the inputs. Never a spoken word again. No movement, just wave of feeling passing through the alcoves of atoms. Functioning as a fleece blanket from the coldest valley in Iceland. Are you still listening?”
“Yeah, so how...why did the humans…”
“The species began to destroy themselves; creating these molded materials to massacre one another. Creating teams to assassinate other teams, never together to strive.To suffocate one another for a title should never have even became such a cogitation. Stultividus beings incapable of encompassing coexistion. Their brain was pumped up over the course of evolution with terrible mindsets, to believe one has to be THE one, never a person to share rather kill for first. It is more than a competition, to dig deep and reroot your life back into the earth than have a title is further into the understanding of how it all should be.
The reason the previous atmosphere was simply blue with white puffs is because of all the living bodies never cared to discover the ways of how to reach Nirvana.They never formed the sky into deeper meaning. They have infected our planet as they infect their central beliefs. As if zombie like, the idea to stop thinking has been beaming, overtaking their carcass and diseasing them like lab rats. The powerful are watching them carefully as they drag their decayed medulla oblongata around to get the freshest advancement. But the word strive is not an amount, yet a feeling, a form of comfort. No longer should success be measured in prices, but minutes you spend seeding your way into the earth’s natural harmonies. Did that satisfy your craving for knowledge?”
I turned over, watched him nod with a small smile, and begin to close his eyes, and with him so did I.
...
It’s the very switch of the morning, the heavens are deep into their twirled lines. Astrotic paisleys shoots across the orange fields of the galaxies just like ours. Birds of stick figures waltz the westernmost moon without any toe steppers. A lava lamp’s lava smoothingly blubs in the wallpaper of the unreachable sky. Our celestial sphere is ornamented so nicely because when Atman is in touch with the atman we reach the heaven, we become it within it. We must all as if disintegrate to paint the sky. I awoke before his attention and dreams even began to blend, I set my gaze upon him for quite some time, understanding his body’s unconscious movements. A swirl of thoughts flowed with such recherché, twirls of visuals. Within my sight, he became to atomize, we became to atomize. Into eternity. She is more than deserving.


I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey work

of the stars,
And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and
the egg of the wren,
And the tree-toad is a chef-d’oeuvre for the highest,
And the running blackberry would adorn the parlors of

heaven,
And the narrowest hinge in my hand puts to scorn all machinery,
And the cow crunching with depress’d head surpasses any

statue,
And a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels.

by Walt Whitman