Look at those boxes. I’ve been boxed in airports for two days observing gloom on faces. When was the last time they saw sunlight, touched the earth with bare feet, smelled the wind off incoming rain, watched an insect with respect or tasted food nature makes? I watch them tear open boxes of shelf-life poison like it’s their last meal. Last meal? It’s not even real. Poison, I tell you.

They look at me and my gypsy friend sitting on the floor wrapped in scarves to keep our not used to air condition skin warm. The bullying she endured to enter my “free” country bordered interrogation. But it only confirmed my reasons for ex patriotism.  We laugh. They scowl. We hug. They smirk. We talk Controligion and flat earth theory. They absorb themselves in the media box converting anything positive to negative frequency. Poison, I say.

Hurry up and get to work. Stay inside all day and stress. Here’s a box of better feelings, take two and stay productive. Rest on Sunday but dress your best. Take your sin inside a box. Confess.

Poison.

They shop for new. We admire our used clothes. They freak out for losing an item that emits more poison. We leave our shoes every time we sit because our feet can’t stand constriction. We step outside and breathe in freedom. They rush inside betraying nature for robotic treason.  I’m not better than anyone of you still on the clock. I’m just better than myself inside that poisoned box. ~Juls ❤

“Our very power comes from our ability to connect with nature”. ~ Juls Amor, The Year of the Frog.

Juls ❤julss

Juls is the author of THE YEAR OF THE FROG:A Tattletale Fairytale available on Amazon, Kindle, iBooks, Scribd, Kobo, Ciando, Flipkart and more. 

One Comment on “Poisoned Boxes

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