Skyscrapers part 2

He pressed the up arrow over and over again. The stress was immense. He felt he was not supposed to be in this forgotten city. Maybe these poor souls were better left undiscovered. And he thought he would soon join them. The elevator thrashed up and the end of the branch snapped off. But part of it still twisted around his leg. He saw this and knew it was a sign of death, he knew he would soon join the group of dead horrors. As it curled around his leg and grew, he was ready! Like an angelic being preparing for battle with knowledge of his death to come in the great battle of life. But don’t cry, don’t weep for in death and only in death there is true…

Peace…

He knew this for he was wise. He had such a fe … BING! His thoughts were interrupted by the elevator sound. He was now returned to the real world in a bang! He stepped out onto the top floor. Corpses scattered across the courtyard office. He saw them… He smiled… He saw a man with his face melted into the old office computer… He giggled… He saw a man with no arm just a thick branch with leaves fresh with blood… he was jealous. Not of their pain but of their death. Was this madness? No. And who has the right to rank us mad? Maybe this natural attack was helping us.

The trees new he was ready. And he knew he was himself. They had now made a sort of agreement or a trust or an understanding. So when his time is up. He will happily go into the leafy arms of his death. He knew that his real life was yet to begin…

And they would subsequently from this threshold onward desiminate a message through there conrete-soil swirled root-work , almost an intuitive photograph of our traveller, a temporal spell of protection or a cacious sanctioning of his body for plant-food, a pact of intriuge and a conscious; sun-synthesised heart moved, though conflicted, to a passificst conclusions. The overgrowth is not without a capacity for morals or extending kindness , far from it. Its green limbs as much as winding the same limbs round prey for feed or from anger. A sensory-visual mapping of the feeling of boots against vine and the senstive pricklings to the sore of the flora vein now known amongst all living things, the sore left by the rubber hoove of the shaken bordering-broken protagonist. Explorer ,victim, survivor , coloniser? Purpose and footwork unknown to us or the bewildered him. They would continue to caress at this point ambiguous if those was a malicious taunt of violent-passive whisper of an aggressor, a torture of time and slow remembrance of the travellers lack of safety or belonging in this horizon-less stone-vine-scape, at times it felt benign this felt in continuum with the traversals. At certain intervals or interventions of the plant curl movements it felt playful friendly even; and to the perversity and wicked lonlineess of our him , felt pleasurable projecting an erotic proposal in the caress of the green w(v)ines. 

eating foraging plants veigns becoming vines protagonist 

book title maybe (vain)

                      VEIN

A COLLABORATION WITH MY 12 YEAR OLD SELF