Do dreams fall like the stars? Do they take their time to die or do they simply disappear? Do the clouds read like comic strips and form words? Do the trees actually move to the wind, or is that just your eyes swimming in your head? The feeling you get when days go by so fast, you feel like your body is circling to the motion of the world. The beating sound of unison. Wrapped around you like cold sheets of pale blankets, and never faltering not even for a second that allows you to endure. Enter, you. Everyone used to have answers. Now they're afraid.
