If Trees Had Consciousness They Would Be Bored to Death

It’s probably for the best that trees don’t think.Because if they did, they’d lose their minds.

Imagine standing in the same spot for 400 years.Same view.Same gossiping birds.Same squirrels with no boundaries.Rain again. Wind again. Sun again. Night again.No escape.No change.

Just slow, aching growth and a calendar that moves one ring at a time.

You start as a seedling full of hope, and by year twelve, you’ve heard the exact same breeze tell the exact same story across the leaves. Every. Single. Season.

And then there’s winter. Months of absolute stillness.No light, no leaves, no guests.Just waiting.

And forget intimacy.

To reproduce, trees have to outsource the whole thing, pollen launched into the wind like desperate text messages, hoping to land somewhere useful. 

No privacy, no pleasure, just logistics. 

An entire sex life handed over to bees and weather patterns.

If trees had consciousness…They’d hallucinate motion.They’d fantasize about being birds.

Or worse, they’d eavesdrop on humans and realize we name them things like “Sprucey” and “Big Jim.” 

That we carve initials into their skin during breakups. 

That we hang tire swings on them and forget them for decades.

Honestly, it’s mercy they don’t think.It’s mercy they don’t know how long they’ve been standing there.It’s mercy they can’t want anything else.

Because if they could, they’d want to leave.

Get it?

OK.