Who is it? Who is standing there behind us? When we turn around, do we see who is standing there, or do we just turn around and see completely nothing?

From where do these voices originate? Why do they suddenly consume us? The wind whistles as if mocking us; we are knocked off our feet in an instant. 

Cursing the sky, we pound our fists against the concrete. As we bleed we cry out, "Is this what being alive is all about?! Suffering with the chaos in our heads?! Why?! Why on earth are we here and where the heck are we going?! We feel like such a waste of space, yet we're supposed to be content with life?! Content with the madness in which paralyzes us from being free to experience life to the fullest?! Why these chains?! Why?!"

As our anger turns to sadness, we lay on the concrete. The sky darkens, clouds move in, and rain trickles down our quivering bodies. 

We slowly inhale then slowly exhale as if breathing differently would clear our minds. We taste the rain. Gazing into the distance, as if some sort of distraction would save us, we sigh. With all our might, we push up with our hands and feet and stumble forward. 

A tree catches our eye. So incredibly tall and stable, yet we are lost. Where is home? Where have we wandered to? None of this is familiar. It's all as if we're in a dream. Maybe if we climb this tree, we can discover our way home. 

The tree is soaked and getting a strong foothold and firm grip is very difficult. Why? Why can't things just work out how we want them to? Why can't things be simple? Why must climbing a tree be such an ordeal. Why did it have to rain? 

Cars zoom by and their headlights hurt our eyes. Why do people drive so fast? Why don't they look where they're going? Oh wait, we are the ones lost now, aren't we? 

*That's all I got for now. More to come at some point. Thanks for reading. ;-) *