It is a desolate place, this forest of white. One must assume that this coating of white must be attributed to the heavy snowfalls; and another assumption that was based on this point is that the sheer frost of the snow accounts for the steely and cold atmosphere one experiences in this environment. A quick glance would reveal a mass of untainted figs that stretch on far as the eye can see, and a closer study would even alert your attention to the distribution patterns of the aforementioned forest. Whilst there might be a dense group of trees in a particular area, a lone tree stands unaccompanied somewhere else. Ironically, it is the latter that enjoys a significantly higher probability of blossoming into a full-grown tree, for the blessings that it receives are its alone to keep.
In this bleak place, there is no solace to be found. The chilling wind cuts straight to the bone, penetrating even the thickest layer of bark. However, there are some trees that beg to differ from the norm, comforting themselves with false lapses of happiness. It must be noted that the smiles plastered upon their rough trunks are nothing but camouflage. Deep inside the chromosomes, they suffer from severe emotional haemorrhage. Joy escapes through the cell membrane like water through a filter funnel, while despair floods in with unparalleled frenzy, effectively distorting the arrangement of the chromosomes in the cell beyond all recognition.
The trees, for some untold reason, partake in senseless revelry every single day. In the spirit of faux happiness, they sweep all ill-will underneath the carpet of grass, and stow each new skeleton away in the closet. All matters, whether happy, sad or just plain foolish are shared openly. The 100dB noise that resonates from the rustling leaves manage to get on the nerves of the average voyager plowing through the forest. The constant chatter is such an irritant that one might be inclined to brandish a sakabato at the branches of those dimwitted agricultural nightmares. They precipitate, letting streams of tears flow down their leaves at the batting of an eyelid. They idolise suave and over-commercialised trees, even if the flaws of these idols are plain for all to see, in order to make up for their personal insecurities. Their flawed mentalities lull the lone trees into inconsolable rage, and that is when the epic War of the Trees begin.
On the 21st of January 2009, where will you be?