It is cramped in here. It is shallow. It is dusty from decades of breathing the same air.
Nothing new grows here. But all that is here remains.
Things die, but they are reborn in the identical form. There is no evolution here.
Words do not travel through space here. They fall into traps that litter the air.
Sometimes a rainbow appears. It is like a mirage, but it is pretty, and we like pretty. No matter it is not real. No matter it will soon disappear.
It is cramped in here. It is shallow.
It is time for dinner. I’m coming, mum. I’m coming.
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Only sunshine here. Only clean, fresh and healthy air. No rain and no rainbows, but endless feelings of freedom. Laughter and happiness, creating stunning views over everlasting sunsets.
And if all of the above should not be true, I'll just pretend it to be true. And don't worry, there is plenty for everybody...you can have some too.
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