Clockstopper

Have you ever felt as if you had all the guns in the world? Yet at the same time, no gun in the world could help you?
It's this funny.
A lot of things just float around in my head, yet I'm here. Supposedly doing my job. I ain't doing no job, don't feel like I am. Sometimes you just wake up weird I guess. What are we lacking?
Maybe we are just lacking the end of our final project, or perhaps the beginning, and also what comes between those two. I don't know.
In the mean time, allow me to tell a story. I know I shouldn't but I guess it makes me feel better. And perhaps, it's all about feeling better.


So, there was a boy walking on the side walk. He tripped. And for once, he didn't got up. He stood there with his hands holding the ground, as if something bad would happen in case he let it go. As if the world depended on that, as a great scar on the ground threatened to part the world in two.
Facing the ground as the day passed through him. As people walked around, birds flew, the sun shone, his mind dug deeper.


As I see these lights calling me, the colors in the sky when the sun starts to leave us. As I see this world moving, and moving, and moving. There's something wrong. And I don't know what is it.
But it has to stop.