Every waking moment; every fleeting whisper of a soon to be forgotten dream. Etched clearly.
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One, of pursuit, of flight, of escape.
Hot on your tracks, they pursue.
Track, chase, hunt. Their target, yeah, you.
When every of your evasive maneuvers lies open to inspection, every flaw open to scrutiny. Man's worse nightmare -- the society.
Society, in it's purest form. Ever thought, as children why we were inoculated with the belief, that all around us were terrifying beasts, ever stranger a lurking devil behind his cheery mask. To caution us of the harm society could bring? That which others could introduce?
Escape. Bizzare, but possible? Escape, from the society and its connotations, free from any societal chains and shackles, liberated from any consequences. Alive.
But would one leave behind what's his and move forward? That was particularly the dilemma that was brought forth. For one would feel the guilt and sadness as the individual left one's commitments behind. Escape, a frivolous idea, partaken in the semi conscious state. Dreamnt, but never entertained.
When society cries out loud: Be realistic, we only shrug, in defeat and resignation.
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It's your fight, not mine, not theirs. Yours.
It's heartening, to be able to see through the fog and rain.
To be able to smile, though with pains, to yet another brighter day.
I salute thee, for braving the path none likes to go.
Overcame finally, yourself. (:
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