Aps- The Muddled Utopian

Away from the rustle of the city, in faraway lands lies her nostalgia. She remembers the landscape like the back of her hand, those thorny bushes, those earthy roads, those clean water lakes. Every passing moment is a symphony of onomatopoeia. There is something there which sounds like her calling, like a scrapbook filled with cutouts of the best adventures. The air smells like stories and the soil beneath her feet holds her, like a dad teaching his little one to walk. Here there are no races to be won, no struggles for survival, on timelines to meet, no chores to be completed, no need to take care of anyone, you are taken care of here. You are groomed, you bloom. These fields are alive, they have conquered monsters of time, like Santa Claus on Christmas, they only know to gift smiles. The girl in the fennel field finds her wonder here, that sparkle in her eyes, that curiosity on her words, that love in her heart. Like fireflies on a moonless night, her exi...

Who were you before the world broke your heart into pieces? Who were you before you found out that human wore masks? Who were you before you realized there is way more out there than meets the eye? That gurl who went looking for wildflowers and fireflies in the dark... That gurl who colored outside the lines... That gurl who opened her heart to everyone without filters... That girl who dreamt like there is no tomorrow and laughed like no one's watching... Do you remember her?? Hell yeah, you do! She is still alive and kicking, underneath the layers of dust on the book, locked in that old trunk in the attic, hidden behind that old photo frame... That girl is YOU and YOU my dear are a rock of the desert, who shines like a diamond in the sunshine and sparkles like a pearl in the moonlight...