words words words

Hawa. Hawwa. Hawas.

Funny how words can mean such different things yet can be so close. 

Breath of fresh air. Air that would slowly be turned into carbon dioxide over the next millennia. This place would exist, but turn into a shadow of itself. The green was lush, and so many different shades. It would also turn into a bad reflection of itself. Colors that had no name. That people would have no names for because they would soon not exist, as the pariahs of the earth would pollute and corrupt the world. Soft, dewy grass that tickled the feet as you walked under it. The red of apples, the orange of citrus fruits, the yellow of bananas, the blue of blueberries, the purple of raspberries. All the colors. None of the poison. The sky was clear. See through. The stars would twinkle at night. All this was made for you. And what did you and yours do? Ruined it. I have no regrets though. The simulation will play again. You will fall. But this one, yours, special though it is not, has one very fascinating thing that I focus on right now.

Hawa. Hawwa. Hawas.

Funny how words can mean such different things yet can be so close. 

A girl walks, guides, gracefully, feminine, lithe, beautiful. Her eyes blue, and green under the changing light, her hair brown, and auburn, and blonde, and black. Twinkling with delight. Her smile a wonder to behold. If she were made from the rib of man, well, haven’t you ever wondered how ugly man is compared to this creature. But I suppose you were too enchanted by her and hers to even think. That is your fatal flaw. And hers? Hers is to feel. You blame her for being conniving. But your brute strength has always oppressed her. Look at her. Look around you. At yours. This beautiful creature and all her progeny. These ones that feel, that are in touch with the earth. That bloom and glow and give life. That suffer endlessly. Silently. Look around. Then look within. What have you done?

Hawa. Hawwa. Hawas.

Funny how words can mean such different things yet can be so close. 

Lust. Such an ugly word. It was your downfall. Some of them fell for other reasons. Other simulations. But he played you well. I mean I created him after all, and I know I’m not supposed to have pride. But id est quod id est, right? c'est ce que c'est. Such an ugly word for such a beautiful feeling. But it led to your downfall. And I was sad to see you go. Then you spread over what I made, and you populated the planet and polluted it. He won. He will win. I don’t mind. It’s just a waste. It’s just a waste of a beautiful thing. Maybe next time, I’ll create just her. Because you’ve turned air into woman into lust. Those are your words. That is who you are.

Hawa. Hawwa. Hawas.