Market for feelings – battles to healing.

Strolling through the final airlock, you feel satisfied that the happiness is in order. Though the hopes are starched and the expectations are neatly arranged, you personally checked that every little thought is in perfect condition. You believe tomorrow’s going to go great and you’re finally off the clock. You look back one last time anyway and see the time between your clinging wishes stays as they always make you nervous. It feels difficult justifying your non-existent wonders while everyone else still has regular maintenance duties over their living.

You close your eyes and brush your teeth with the smallest dab of toothpaste, thinking on the digital world, where the colors are sharp, your purpose is clear, your name respected and you never have to deal with annoyances like cramped quarters, monthly bone treatments, or strict water restrictions. You rinse with the smallest swig of water you can manage and wipe your face with mordant. 

You set your walkie-talkie down on a nearby drawer, and lean back against the chair backing at the foot of your bed. You close your eyes as adhrenaline boosts up. The loading music alone just melts the boredom away. It’s delicious because it’s your kind of love. 
You progress through the compound of reality, dispatching more and more guards. You pass piles of undead fears. 

Crave your own niche, learn to embrace the randomness. The purpose of this glorious life is not simply to endure it, but to soar, stumble and flourish love with existence. Because we were born to live, not to merely exist. 


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