Begone. You are marring my very splendor. I was once a beautiful being, but your actions have twisted that reputation around for the worst. I was created solely to house you all, but now there is so many of you all, that I can not possibly keep up with your demands. There is only one of me, and so many of you. Please show me at least a little mercy. I am trying my best, but you keep on pressuring me. I can not take this kind of chronic stress, it is simply too much.
Cars. Destroy them. Destroy them all. The noxious fumes they emanate from the back make me cough and wheeze in a way that I never used to. These cruel creations have been giving me a temperature, and I hope that you all can see what I mean. The days are warmer, for those who stopped to actually pay a little attention to my whereabouts. This is the main reason why I am writing. Humans, purge the earth of those foul creations you call cars. They might make travel easier, but they are constantly placing you in dangerous situations as well. Whenever you drive, you run the risk of cruising into the back of another car, possibly injuring yourself beyond repair, as the cars have done to me. Also, in my sickness, I have realized that there is little purpose in your complaining of this climate change. I have had enough of you complaining of this, and then doing nothing about it. You know you will have to do something before you lose the one who loves you all, mother nature herself. I am terminally ill, and you are my doctors. Either you will help me out or make a joke out of it as you are.
...Please, show me some mercy. Rid ourselves of these abominable objects of evil. We could surely do without them, use bikes or something.
...Please, show me some mercy. Rid ourselves of these abominable objects of evil. We could surely do without them, use bikes or something.
Your mother,
Nature
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