Cornana Strange Park

So many parks, so much time . . .

Yes. After visiting--that is, sneaking into and spying upon--Stalag Ranville, I felt a great need to lie low. To hide. To be silent. However, I did visit parks. But I felt quite horrible in this horrid place. I do feel a bit better now--mainly, I believe, because a long and dark and harsh winter is coming. Very cold temperatures are already here and there has been snow. Yay. What better way to live in this prisoner island than in prison-like weather . . . Anyway, parks.

There is ARK RK Park, Lake Bellobrutto Park, Woods Park, Carretorgetplatz Park, Park Leftover Park and Unnamed Tree/River Park, among others. But I visited a new place a month or two or three ago, aptly named Cornana Strange Park.

It is located on the south side of Cornana, easily accessible by a Transport Vehicle (TV).

What follows is my truncated tour . . .

First, let's look at the dry brown grassy grassiness of the grassy place:

Of course--this being Soybean island--all the grassiness needs to be corralled and controlled--

--and here, HERE, is a frightening structure among that grassy grass:

I trust that this is some sort of gallows or stage for public floggings, stoning lapidations, outright hangings and executions. Who knows, perhaps it is still in use or at least serves as a reminder to those who (like me) would dearly wish to upset the rotten apple cart that is Soybean Island Society.

Alas . . .

Now, what makes the park strange--besides the grass and hideous deathtrap structures--is the obligatory statuary.

Instead of the usual shiny metallic razor-sharp-edged sculpture you see in Soybean island City, the Cornana works are a bit more whimsical . . . Perhaps . . .

And even figurative literal:

A rabbit of oversize proportions--or oversized correct proportions at least . . . And the following an oxidized nude almost facing the grassy grassiness:

 What I like about it is that her head is turned--she, like me, does not want to see the wasteland within which she exists . . .


But of course, the images of metal nets and captivity are never far behind:

Here is one depicting the choking of a dog!

Or, perhaps, it is depicting a goat being led to slaughter, or a goat in the process of its slaughter . . . One never knows on Soybean Island . . .

Ah. But here, HERE, is the familiar shiny killing-machine ethic:

Yes.

And this?

Maybe, just maybe, it is only a dead tree . . .

There was more (though, oddly enough, no snails!) I felt I could not show it, such extra statuary. Everything is always so dangerous here . . .

Animal life in Cornana Strange Park?

Well, there was this:

A wooly insect.

And then a slippery miniature snake!

And?

I do not know if you--dear non-reader--can see the moving image I attempted to place above. I do not know if you or anyone can see any of the images in this or other or any posts of mine. I do not know if my words can be seen, read, understood out there in the supposedly free world. I simply do not. But I must believe it to be so. For my own sanity and forward movement--my very breath by breath by breath existence--I must think that this will, can, shall be seen by someone and that someday somehow somesomesome I will escape this dreaded place and live out the rest of my life in pacific solitude and die like any free creature should die. Someday. Yes.

No more to report.
Oneninefiveseven over and out.

Goodbye from Soybean Island.