Shades of Yggdrasil

The Sperg Box

As I sit here writing this, there looms outside a steel grey clouded sky. That sky sits like an iron blanket upon my vantage of the trees, with their leaf-littered fingers reaching up to Heaven. Below it all likes a fundus made of grass and soil and stone, green, almost vulgar in her beauty. In my head I hear the song of the Golden Dawn, which I myself stole from YouTube because any day now some diaper-stained sissy will decide it is somehow offensive and have it banned. I’m drinking my Cumberland Farms coffee, made the way I like it, like how I like women: full-bodied, pale and sweet. Life is good. This Nature I surround myself with has formed the landscape of my dreams, inspired the measure by which I judge natural beauty. Its climes have shaped my own soul, too. Maine is a rugged State, beautiful in theory…

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