How many deaths have been caused by a surreal misunderstanding of reality? The mountains pinch away into one point as I hallucinate. 

These woods give me energy to write. I feel my mind overwhelmed, begin to worry, then redirect my thoughts to writing. As my friends capture the moments in photos, I capture them in words. 

The energy of nature fills me and I empty it back out. It fills me to the brim and I spill over. I give the energy back. After all, I am a vessel. 

Let myself teem with it. My body is weak for the strength of my soul. 

The mountains clearing up. Nah, just rolling in a new face. Like the mountains change cloud cover, I change my guise.