Phil is a wildflower. He grew up in a small wheat meadow on the lushest lands of northern U.K.
He learned how to grow, to be, what he wanted to.
Was he forced to?
No.
Did he care what people thought?
No.
He was carefree and happy and a bright ray of sun on a rainy day.
He could make the trees dance and the birds sing and the stalks of wheat sway in the wind.
Because he was what everyone wanted. He was what everyone dreamed of.
He was free.
Free from farmers and collectors.
Free from the hunters and prize winner.
Because free from people who just wanted to look. The people who just wanted to see what things looked like. The people who didn't care about how things looked in its real natural habitat. The people who only cares about things that are of utter more convenience to themselves.
He was free to be creative and expressive and just plain old happy.
He was free to sway in the wind and sing with the birds and laugh with the stars.
He was free to be himself.
He was free to stand up for himself and his friends and his family because he could.
He was alive.
He could see the birds and the trees and the blades of grass. He could see the night sky and shooting stars and...
Peace.
He could experience peace.
He would never know what it felt like to live up to expectations. He would never know what it did to a someone when you didn't. He would never ever know the pain you go through when being ripped apart for the one thing that kept you grounded all these years.
But that was good.
Because he wouldn't be able to handle it.
But he was alive and that was the point. He was okay.
He had friends and family he could trust and he was happy inside and out and he was live with oxygen flowing though his body and he didn't want to die and he was just always smiling.
Because he didn't know there were people who didn't.
He didn't know that there are things out there that don't have friends and family to rely on. That there were things that didn't want to live and weren't happy. That there were things that just kept living because they didn't have a choice.
He was naïve you could say.
But he was happy.
Happy and alive.
