artificial sweet

[Freckledfox]

Where fields of flowers stretched endlessly and it was always summer, where no one counted the days and the nights were warm, where hostilities didn't matter and we held stars in our paws. Where the dead slept. A utopia, in almost every definition of the word. And perhaps once one had been there for long enough it would seem that way; maybe we would grow to prefer it to our old life. That's what I hoped for, looked forward to; to grow old, but not really old, in this place and lose the anxieties that came from a lifeless life; the sadness, the always-there sense of panic that clutched at your chest until it felt you almost couldn't breathe, and the emptiness. I had to say the emptiness was the worst part -- the feeling like you were missing a part of you that could only be filled with family and friends and life. I wanted to be alive, not trapped in the sickeningly sweet depths of this god-forsaken utopia.

I felt the most at home on the prairie, the one that almost perfectly mimicked my old home. It was empty tonight, surrounded by billions of fiery stars that seemed so far away when in reality, we were a part of them. We were the stars -- at least, that's what I liked to think. No one seemed to have an explanation of what exactly we were, what we were made up of, besides that word: spirits. We couldn't even begin to comprehend what that word really meant, so I stuck with the stars. It was a lot more calming, more comforting, than the other possible explanations. I was thinking of nothing, really, but what fleeting thoughts I did have were cut off by the soft sound of grass brushing against.. air, I suppose. I wasn't sure how I'd come to detect the sound, but it had a different sort of sound than wind rustling the grass. And so I turned, greeted by the silhouette of another cat. "Hello?"

oh jeez i got carried away @dropyopants