Have you ever played in a garden, stuck your little fingers in the red dirt, felt it squish in your hands? Probably not since you were little. I lived in that place. That shining garden. My toes were rooted in the soil, along with a variety of foilage and flowers. I had my place amongst the swaying trees and tall grasses. But then I got too old for that garden. I was uprooted and thrown into a forest of cement and concrete. It was crisp and clean, but I couldnt sink my feet in. The earth was too hard. It was easier to just exist on the surface and tumble from one place to another. Now im back in that garden. But when i was gone, a flood came. A flood of Noise Deadlines #life. The deep tunneks my roots had made were filled in. Only an indent, a small dip in the earth represented my home. I cant fit there anymore. I back away, trying to let my roots burrow elsewhere, but I'm reminded over and over That it never can be.