Dear Dakota,
I recently woke up in a lush, vicious forest full of oak and willow trees that surrounded my peripheral . The trees were enormous, towering above me like a giant, nearly suffocating me and it turned my sight into tunnel vision. Through the breaks in the branches, I see a relatively small pond with jumping Koi, splashing slightly against the surface. I feel imprisoned like a have done something terrible wrong and this was my sentence. I walked up to my favorite tree, one that reminds me of the art from "The Dream Hunters" and I quickly fall in love. Swiftly turn and begin to climb it. All my accomplishments in life, I always resume back to my childhood. We all do in a sense. After many failed attempts proven by the deep scratches in my arms and the blood from my hands given to me from the razor-like bark I tried to grasp.
"I give up!" I shouted.
