Distant. Thats how i feel towards everyone around me. Distant. Like everyone around me is a magnificent eagle soaring above with wings of freedom whilst im a small penguin, isolated in my frozen wasteland, gazing to the fellow members of my species soaring above me. Distant. The frozen waste i call home is unforgiving, the cold rips through and pierces even the largest of objects, freezing all, even time is not safe from this bitter cold that stabs the air. Distant. Cut off from the world like a trapped, caged animal, numbered and tagged, my freedom is but an illusion created by people who have fallen deeper into the illusion than i. Right now in the bitter loneliness that surrounds this cursed abyss i contemplate the meaning behind the illusion we create, is life just a fantasy we create and fool ourselves into believing we have any resemblance of control over?
Broken dreams lay the craked, side-winding path that we blindly follow, such is the same as hopeless drug fiend, chasing an imaginary dragon and yet the grass is greener on the other side of the fence. We foolishly allow ourselves to dive head first, unbeknown of what lies ahead, and yet once we reach the destination we have long sought after, the dragon escapes through no fault of our own, creating another cracked, degraded, side-winding road, bordering on the mentally unstable we follow this same, all too familiar, track chasing the dragon once more, never pausing, attwmpting to reach the end of the rainbow, only this is all an illusion of what is deemed normal or acceptable by those who, themselves, have dove deeper into the illusion, to depths unfathomable by the very same people that deem it normal and acceptable to chase an imaginary dragon, foolish.
Is my existance real? Do i really have a footprint, if so how much time will pass until that footprint is yet anpther forgotten page in yet another depressing tale? I slowly, almost carelessly, run my fingers through the sand almost as if to seek the contact of something that is real, only to realise my attempts are futile asbthe sand simply moves around me only to settle as though my presence had not affected it at all, realising this i stop and pull my hand out to find that there are a few grains among the billions i passed that clung on, as if they were kindred spirits that understood that they themselves were different. I attempt to shake them but once more my attempts reach a finale of futility, the grains seemingly do not wish to part with me, alone in the depths of this abyss we share knowledge that we are insignificant among many, yet we found comfort together, few as we are, we are many more than one.
It took me a while to think of the ending to this anyway i hope you enjoyed reading ^.^