“If you had wings what would you do? Where would you go? Would it be a place where rivers flow? A place where you can meditate with the birds until your heart’s content or would you just wipe it all away like polos to lent. And what other way would time be better spent, living a life with to not seize the skies, seize the day, tell me then, what would it have all meant?
Life is not a Red Bull, but loving it will surely give you wings. And that my friends would be a time well spent.”
The day was hot and muggy. The man stood in front of what appeared to be over a hundred lumberjacks. He tried to explain to them what he saw, what he discovered, but little did anyone care to hear his words. He’d hoped his best friend Jeff would get an idea of what he was talking about, that he’d understand. But not a word was given, not even the slightest bit of movement—it was as if everyone was frozen in time. The man pleaded for understanding. A few of the men he spoke to walked away, frustrated and annoyed. Life was hard enough already, and being that no one needed lumber for the summer—they weren’t making much of a profit in their line of work either. If they sold anything, it was to teenagers and young adults who just wanted to party and have bonfires. The man’s antics however were not over. He felt that he could sway them, only if they knew the truth—knew his truth. Continue reading →