It was the kind of land that made you question your sanity. made you see things far off, strange men in suits waiting for you to walk into their trap. It was the mass of the land that told you nobody would hear your screams. Each step was a hundred or nothing. A thousand years here would feel the same as a day. because When all you can see is sticks and nothingness for miles and miles and forever, It doesn’t matter how many thousands of steps you take. But with every step, every time my bare feet hit against the lifeless land I couldn’t help but feel sorry not for me but for this useless part of the world. It held so much potential all wasted on this barren forsaken stretch of forever.
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