Human?

The world is consumed by things. Learn who you are and stop worrying about what you own

It melts anger into masks, transforms sadness into mistakes and, mimicking a human, it steps into clothes and puts on a woman's face. With quiet steps and swaying thighs, claws are contracted and slipped into shoes.

She collects and hoards, attempting to fit in with the materialistic world. A nest of items builds up with each day, filling the corners and grazing the ceiling. She sits at the center, sorting her treasures. Wanting to show them off but unable to carry the weight.

She layers her clothing, putting on dresses, sweaters, coats and shoes. Her face is masked by powder, her lips sealed in red. Jewelry hides her neck from view and her backpack overflows with useless toys.

Her life is spent working for these objects; hours each day, sitting at a desk and staring at a screen. Her eyes glaze over as she wastes away but it is all worth it for she fits in with all the other creatures and they always want more. As she sits in front of the computer a man walks over, he coughs lightly, hoping to pull her eyes away from the screen. She doesn’t blink, doesn’t turn her head or acknowledge his presence. She has forgotten about living in her fight for a happy life.

Her body is weighed down with objects that are supposed to make her happy; soon her skeleton cannot handle the load. Her spine begins to twist and bend and joints begin to crumble and turn to dust. Her mask smears off and her clothing tears.

What once meant everything is now useless. Her treasure gathers dust in a dark room with only a beam of light shining in. The house crumbles and creaks, the wind blows and the walls shake like leaves in a dying tree.

 Her hours wasted away at work, nobody remembers who she is and nobody cares. The man leaves a note on her desk, asking her out for a cup of coffee during lunch break. In a rush she unknowingly drops a stack of folders on top of the note. Workdays grew longer and social life shrunk as all her energy went towards the job. Her body now broken, it lays, surrounded by piles of toys in a dark house on a mountain ridge where a forgotten town once stood.

The house sits in an abandoned town; vines twist around bones and nature begins to take control. The nest of objects becomes overgrown with wild plants, the clothing decomposes and things are buried as the house turns to soil. Buildings become hills, bodies turn into gardens and the items once believed to be more important than life are never seen or thought of again.