“Why don’t we go to where the movies are silent, and life is as big as a stage”

Remember when we were sixteen and seventeen? On the brink of discovering there’s more to life than books, paper and school rules; when the thrill of sneaking into a club or buying a bottle of vodka from the convenience store and drinking by the roadside, would bring in a rush of adrenaline and a gloating sense of triumph; when dreams of becoming an artist or a writer or a philosopher or a high-ranking corporate figure actually seemed realistic and were fueled by words of the elders that were once wise, “study hard, and you can do anything”; willingly sewing your heart on your sleeve and believing in the sweet instead of the nothings

Barely three or four years later (but it feels like it’s been ten years down the road) – high school felt like it was a lifetime ago; the euphoria of trawling the streets at 4am in a drunken stupor after the expedition of a dancefloor of pulsating beats and having sweaty hands feel you up in every direction possible, is now only a familiar friend who’s left you tired and unexcited; the world which you were told was “your oyster” merely seems like an endless vaccuum of gravity now, sucking you deeper and deeper into an endless mundane abyss; you have loved and lost one too many times until all that’s left of what was once a hopeful heart is now just a deceiving hologram

A continuous metamorphosis from the inside out; physically, spiritually, mentally –

How did we get here?

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