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Fighting Your Way Out

Bash, bash, bash. How do I get out of here? Bash, bash, bash. This is exhausting. My head is getting sore, time to switch to kicking. Thump, thump, thump. There must be an easier way. Hmmmm…what else can I do? What am I good at? Eating. Is it weird to eat this thing? Well that’s easier than bashing and kicking I suppose. Can’t do any harm, or can it? The alternative is to stay stuck in here and that’s not going to help me. Anything is worth a shot I guess. Meh. Nothing amazingly special for the taste buds compared to those yummy, juicy, crunching same old same old leaves but yep definitely easier than bashing and kicking. Whoa, what’s the Son up to! The extra brightness and glare! I can already feel his heat through this....? Well whatever this thing is. He’s either really happy or totally angry about something. Munch, munch, munch. Or maybe there’s something different about my eyes? No…it must be the Son. I know that dancing across the sky would be enough to get anyone blazing away but I think the Son can even blind himself with his brightness sometimes. I mean the grand entrances and exits at the start and end of the day. It’s a bit over the top isn’t it? There must be a better way to start and end the day rather than be bombarded with a gleaming, stunning, striking fireball display? Actually, maybe I'm been a bit judgmental. I guess this dark, heavy, tight skin clinging to me for days on end has warped my perception of things. I suppose it makes sense to end up a bit judge mental. What’s he playing at anyway? Those clouds have probably pissed him off again with all their skylarking about; raining on his parade across the sky. When’s he going to realise they just do that for a reaction? If he didn’t react they’d just mosey on and brew up a storm someplace else. Clouds will do that. Well storm clouds anyway. Crunch, chomp. I guess it’s all about understanding the type of cloud you’re dealing with. The wispy ones aren’t any hassle to him or anyone. We all know there’s no substance to them. No rain, no pain, no gain. I guess the Son doesn’t mind them because his rays can still glint through them. Or maybe his glare vaporises and scorches them? (Note: Rain in distorted perception.) Maybe the wispy ones just have somewhere better to be. I don’t know, never bothered or cared to ask them. As long as the big, white fluffy ones drift off quickly. When they hang around for days it’s a drain. Mutes the warmth and brilliance the Son radiates. But he always seems to reappear, beaming away. How does he do that? Maybe it’s handy to be blocked out sometimes. Gives him time to have a holiday, refresh himself and shine brighter with extra bedazzlement. Who knows what goes on with the Son, he’s too far away to ask. I do appreciate the warmth and gentle but striking light that seems to glow and glimmer from him though. But does he have to dance? (Note: Smother the distorted perception flaring up due to extreme pressure and hallucinations created by been stuck in a small confined space.) On reflection it is entertaining to watch his dancing. Maybe the glaring problem is that I'm jealous. I’d love to dance too. One day. Fly across the sky. Agile, playful arches. Spirited and free. I’d love to be able to explore. Go for adventures. Have fun. Be able to get among things, experience things and of course eat yummy things. I'm starting to get sick of my same old same old leaves. What? What am I thinking about? This is ridiculous. I’m a caterpillar. I know my life. Lie on my back, eat my same old same old leaves, watch the world go by around me. Repeat on my stomach. Well, that was until I found myself cloaked and consumed by this dark, oppressive skin. Not sure how that happened. Woke up and boom. I’m determined to get out. I'm sick of this skin. I will do what I’m best at, eating, to get out. Speaking of eating, this thing has an interesting texture and subtle flavour to it that’s growing on me. It's like I'm growing just sniffing it. Maybe this skin isn't making me sick but helping me grow as I eat it. There’s this energy and strength to it. The same old same old leaves had more flavour, initial burst and intensity but this thing feels like it’s got more substance and fibre to it. It has this strange light and sheen to it. Pop. Wow it IS my eyes that are different!!! And all my sensors. This is beyond any aurora I've seen from the Son. What's illuminated in front of me surpasses 3D; it's 9D. The intensity and vibrancy of the colours. The mosaic of sounds. The action and buzz engulfing me. I can taste the wind and bark just by breathing. What’s going on?

Something to think about...

“Better to fight for something than live for nothing." - General George Smith Patton Jr. Senior U.S. Army Officer who earned the nickname "Old Blood and Guts"

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