Sublime

Consciousness itself is a flavor of madness, set against the thoughts of the green world. Adam puts out his hands to steady himself and touches

foreshadow a future filled with the seductively colonizing commodities of American modernity.

Oak.

This part’s always disagreeable, the brute scramble up towards daylight. He burrows through clay, grabs at roots, until the earth falls away and he’s looking up at a vaguely yellow sky.

But the humans have her in their grip, and she’ll never get free again.

Blur rises up his legs and torso. He’s drowning in pitch.