The village was really nothing but a metaphor. A place where she went when there was no where else to go. She stumbled through classes each day. She trudged through the hours and then she would go to the village. She would flip pages and pages of books. She would smile at the pictures that meant nothing but to tell a story. She found herself in this “village”. But then she lost herself in her reality.
A village in the country. Such a beautiful place to be. Peaceful, quiet, lots of helping and caring people to talk and interact with. Not the coldness of a large city at all. Can hardly wait to be back in my village, my hometown, the place where I feel good, where I know I can be myself.
The village was really nothing but a metaphor. A place where she went when there was no where else to go. She stumbled through classes each day. She trudged through the hours and then she would go to the village. She would flip pages and pages of books. She would smile at the pictures that meant nothing but to tell a story. She found herself in this “village”. But then she lost herself in her reality.
A village in the country. Such a beautiful place to be. Peaceful, quiet, lots of helping and caring people to talk and interact with. Not the coldness of a large city at all. Can hardly wait to be back in my village, my hometown, the place where I feel good, where I know I can be myself.
screaming, flaming messes, the villagers ripped at their now non-existent skin to remove the napalm which had already slid its way down their terra.
all was not what it seems
I went to a small village in Fiji.
It was just as you would expect I guess.
Great straw thatched huts and green grass as far as the eye could see.
The whole place in general was paradise.
Crystal blue waters and stunning scenes all around.
One of the greatest places on Earth.