Cacophonous: having an unpleasant sound

The whirring of the winds brought about a solemn peace that pervaded my entire body. Everything around me began transfixing into a cloud of stimulants that threatened to lull me into an everlasting slumber. Without having to open my eyes, I could feel everything around me converge into a world all of my own. The gentle winds, the gentle sway, and the gentle whistling all came together in my head as an amalgamation of nature. I knew just where I wanted to be, the perfect world where only I can reign in, the perfect world where all the sounds around me were nothing but affable. I craved to live in such a world, and the only time I could truly live in such a world is through the sounds of the wind. But I know that those sounds are fleeting, and that every second I have to indulge my senses to those sounds are times where I would never give away. To live in such perfect solace was nothing short of complete fallacy, and yet every time I would awaken to that fallacy I would form it into my own. I would give everything to live perfectly within that fallacy, for if I lived it in, then it would not be mere fallacy. However, I cannot give everything to this fallacy. Once upon the galls of bright silvered machines and the destruction of the boreal, I hear everything that which I despise. It screeches in my ears and I grip my hands wanting to scream and wallow my being into a pit of self pittance. What an ugly sound.


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