Special Meaningless

Time has worn the rough edges of my mind smooth and shiny. My peaks once rocky and sharp have eroded slowly to the sea leaving mere hills. Were these once mountains? Oh but they were!
My forests have been cleared for development. My oceans fished dry.
My avatars who chased dragons endlessly questing, who fought giants, who braved dungeons, instead anxiously plow the ground dreaming about there past exploits.
The starry dynamo of the night is still out there somewhere; even now you can feel it occasionally...

cont'd