Through passing days and nights words come and go. Hearts are rebuilt and shattered. The wind blows on people’s face inspiring their mind, and inspiring poets with poems.
And somewhere along the perpetual symphony of the world singing in our ears with its many sounds we stop and listen. We stop and fear. We cease to believe. We cease to believe in magic and its alternate reality. Cease to believe in a world in which you can be whoever… whenever.
Suddenly the concrete structures around us seem taller than ever, the air is more polluted than ever. Our heart craves freedom more than ever.
But then the clock hits nine a.m. and we walk towards our cubicles, contemplating the hands of the clock as we walk by. Walking slowly towards a routine that slowly smothers who we really are inside.
On the first day of the rest of our lives.