the clock ticks by, each second seeming like an eternity. the endless pounding of the hands seem to bombard my soul as if searching for a way in, attempting to shatter it. Echo. it echos. It reminds me of a time when everything was easy, and life was simple..a time when everything just made sense. no strings attatched. everything just WAS. Now i lie here like a broken puppet, i, whos strings have been impossibly tangled in the web of life, this web of misery. I want to break free, i want to move...

How is one supposed to feel, when the beauty of the pouring rain is dancing aroud ones fingertips, just out of reach? how is one supposed to feel when the burning sensation of desire cannot be quenched simply with a voice? And how is one supposed to feel, when the hope of a better day is hung right in front of them, yet their hands are bound to their eyes, preventing them from seeing it, from reaching out and claiming it as their own, a brighter tomorrow for humanity?How, i ask you, are you supposed...