#writing in code

I am a bad farmer indeed. I lit up the whole field last year. I sat, in a state of apparent nonchalance whilst the heat of the fire playfully licked the naked skin of my legs. I sat at the foot of it all, watching the events unfold in front of my eyes. Do I recall the emotion I felt then? Satisfaction. Pure, utter satisfaction. As warm…as threateningly inviting as the flames that engulfed the vulnerable yet proud life beings. What a startling contrast to the image of me on my knees, a year later, searching the earth in vain for a trace of life that survived without my cultivation. Wet, dripping mud pouring from my hands, and I held my face up to the clouds. Goosebumps have made themselves at home too long ago for the mind to register.

Consistency is essential. Who was it that decided to refrain from informing me?