From hope to audacity Bresxinski
Uploaded by mejia_r0b on Oct 30, 2013
Eric Bishop
Mr. Berry 1B
Honors English 10
29 Oct 2013
My limbs were shaking uncontrollably; my gait was ever erratic; I stealthily departed from the group of my peers. We had all consumed the newly popular “magic mushrooms” together. My very soul was penetrated with questions of how my friends could still move, converse and interact so unflappably with each other. I had become animalistic as if I had transformed into a lone wolf; I felt a capriciously inexorable urge to howl to the moon. The brown of my eyes had completely vanished, conquered by fully dilated pupils. My brain’s optometric extension had now been replaced by the deepest, darkest holes capable of seeing all of the concealed mysteries withheld in remotest of hiding places in the universe. A note of denial that the mushrooms were functioning properly would be just that, denial. I was in an entirely separate reality; the proverbial trip was underway.
Sunlight’s reflection on the scenery shimmered like the restroom in a Mr. Clean advertisement. To quantify it in numerical terms, I would have to say everything looked fifteen to twenty percent deeper and more naturalistically beautiful than it had in the morning. My retina’s scanned the landscape for a spot appropriate for a certain composing of myself and I set off airily towards my new habitat. Grasses, small shrubs and dazzling wild flowers grew in every place where they could find a crack in the stone. The terrain was made up of rocks with, to the naked eye, every shape, size and multi-colored hue. Sedimentary minerals compiled down south of vast glacier deposits of indefatigable freezes persisting for thousands of years. I was intrigued by their restrained, stoic presence. The rocky shore of an unnamed lake stretched approximately three quarters of a mile in until intersecting the tree line. The towering alpine’s stood staunchly like Green Beret daring me to pass them by and enter their heavily protected interior wooded areas. Stumbling inebriated from crag to promontory with all the grace of a newly delivered foal I stopped to crouch lightly, adjacent to a tiny cedar. This modicum of asylum sheltered me from the wind and I was comforted by the tenacity of minuscule creation of God’s green earth. Skeletons of his ancestral consanguine lay sprawled out surrounding us on all sides, but we decided not to discuss his ineluctable fate. This seemed to be a fine spot...