
There’s no me, and there’s no you, either. There’s certainly no love. Sometimes there’s lust, but without question, there’s not one ounce of passion. There’s a desire to fit in and to mirror the rest, but underneath it all, we’re just faking it until it’s time to go home to the great gig in the sky. We waste our lives and don’t even blink an eye. We look at ourselves in the mirror and see what we think others want to see, but there’s no one there. No one at all. The crowd gather and swarm; they look so proud of themselves as they repeat a life already lived. Yet never do they take a second to ask themselves why they do the things they do. They duplicate and replicate; they sit down and stand up. You could be rich, or you could be poor. Could travel the world or stay in one place. There’s a journey in each and every one of us. There’s a change just waiting to be made, but it involves no altering of appearances. All we have to do is look inside ourselves. To see not the shell, but the seed. There’s an emotional core to each and every action. We might try and pretend we’re cute machines, but although our numbers are legion, there’s a delicate soul behind every pair of vacant eyes. In the lonely hours when we’re adrift, we know who we are, and yet by morning, all is forgotten. The wheel keeps turning. The sun keeps rising. But it won’t last forever- nothing ever does.

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