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A tiny piece I wrote for a particular internet writing course. [The Ten Thousandth Gateway]


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It's called CTY. Center for Talented Youth. Yeah, as though I'm even mildly smart or anything. But since it's hosted Johns Hopkins, I suppose I'm not stupid.

It's an essay about the Shirakami Mountains, located in the Aomori Prefecture of Japan. I went there in summer vacation, decided to write about it for the assignment. Already handed in and stuff, suppose it's OK.

Not long. Just several paragraphs.

[center][spoiler=The Ten Thousandth Gateway][/center]

Within these blue-green Shirakami Mountains, here in the deepest forests of the Aomori Prefecture, lays flourishing life inherited from prehistoric eons. Slowly accenting lines of gray that intertwine to create each mountain’s silhouette grow diluted as they rise, fading into the low ashen clouds, those emissaries assigned from the heavens who have come to greet the earth.

Months before drums the diameter of five men thunder in the Nebuta Festivals three thousand feet below, the world’s largest woodpeckers have already started to ceaselessly beat upon the thickest beeches. Fresh winds sprinkling the fragrance of undergrowth acrobat among the trees, whilst sunlight pours from the crevices opening in the emerald rooftops, casting spotlights upon the tranquil snaking rivers that chatter and giggle to visitors, making its surface ablaze with consecrated radiance. Sunbathing, sleeping upon the forest bed are countless decaying logs, each one ancient and russet, wearing dresses of jade moss, morning dew flashing, and when I touch the clothing the water drops are refreshing on my fingertips. Should I look up the leaves are nothing but the sharp outlines of marvelous chartreuse, so dazzlingly vivid, soaring above in the skies…

The cosmos I had set foot into was a world where unpolluted nature welcomes me. Surrounds me. Wipes away all feelings, grasps my soul in a parallel universe free of civilization, a parallel universe which would have been lost millenniums ago if not for perpendicular fortune.

The air tastes of freshness. It tastes of the earliest homelands, a dimension no men have ever set foot upon for centuries, forgotten as industry confiscated its place, yet essential for all existence to truly be itself. The taste of life. The taste of a rich, multitalented, and warming family, calling me back. Calling you back. Calling all of us back to its genial arms where no time exists, where all is one.

And I raised my head from the rivers, stood up among the singing birds. I looked around at the leaves, at the sky, at the branches. For a split second of marvel, I thought I heard the convivial echo of the earth’s great heartbeats. Here, above me, below me, in front of me, at my back, at my right, at my left, in all directions around me, always gently smiling right by my side, her eyes deep and dark, there was always a door to the one and only mother of us all. [/spoiler]

Dedicated to wasting your computer time.
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