aloof.
Aloof, not showing emotion. Elsa’s demeanor was off-putting to some, but attractive to the right ones. Skipping over the space between two large rocks, in step with her general appreciation of the beauty of the world around her, she began to wonder. She began to think. Why must I always be so negative. Why must I always be overthinking everything. Why is my hobby to ruminate? Such is the strife of a girl, who’s only desire is to spread her love and show the beauty of the world to the beholder. Such a deed, it is almost not possible. Because to be aware of beauty in a rotting tree branch that is just as is, and the beauty of the fleeting nature of an introspective and appreciative moment, one must consciously be aware of his current state. One must truly live in the moment, not lost in their not-so deep or deep thoughts. Such is an eternal struggle, for even those that claim to enjoy the moment.
She continues through the forest, touching the moist, mossy bark of a grand oak, an oak so grand that it represents humanity over centuries. She spins around, careful not to catch a glimpse of the living beings around her, which will remind her of the present moment she is in, the sadness of the flightiness of freedom. True freedom is unattainable, except in transience. That is the beauty of freedom. It is an eternal paradox, it is something unattainable yet when attained, we are lost and miserable. Why is it that what we crave most, we…
