"And I wish not to die with them."

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2 years ago
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[ a prose by Julsijuls ]

They told me to travel and go to a place where houses tower each other and stones are turned into buildings. Buildings so high they reach the sky, so high that when you look out of a window, the clouds will greet your face--cold with spiking needles. They told me to go to a city, and live there.

The city doesn't have mud they say. The roads are concrete and clean and hard. When it rains, the ground does not turn into puddles. The streets are made for comfort. But at nights the concrete sip blood, and the vehicles will run over flesh and pretend not to see. And they go on, zooming on hard roads.

the cold and gray city (images from Pinterest)

But aside from the road, a lot more other things are hard. Houses are hard, schools are hard, buildings are hard, even the inhabitants of the city are hard; hearts and minds and souls. Faces are stoic, sometimes emotionless, sometimes angry and always in a rush.

The city is big and gray and hard. The sky, it has clouds and the sun, but the heavens in the city aren't blue. The sky is always a lonely shade of grey, thundering, rumbling, raining, howling.

The city doesn't have flowers. Or trees. Or lakes. the city is big but where did its colors go? Where did its life go?

They told me to go to the city, to look for new things. But the city is dead, just bones and glasses and cement and deadly ragged edges. There is nothing new, for death is the complete opposite of new. How could there be something new? Every time you take in a deep breath, your lungs will color black, for smoke will fill it instead of fresh air.

The colorful fun life (images from Pinterest)

They told me to go to the city but i won't. I do not wish that place to sip away my colors. And i'd rather stay here. Where the flowers grow reds and purples and yellows, where the birds sing songs, where the trees are big and healthy green, where the sky is blue, where there is life and colors and hues.

And here i will stay, until death is the one to come to me, and congratulate me for living a colorful lively life.


This prose is about my view about city and country sides. How a city is big and grand and deadly. While compared to the contry sides, life is peaceful and colorful and vibrant. I also made this because I wanna move to a peaceful place where I can live by myself and still be happy :>

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