prelude

Here it is

The last of our kind. Ambition. Motivation.

I am the one that will walk the streets, with a briefcase in hand and a cellphone pressed to my ear. Devices galore clipped over me, hidden in my jacket. I will flag cabs and take buses and drive cars and move and move and move all around the town, seeking, talking, working.

And all whilst i feel an awful sense of accomplishment. All whilst everything I've learnt in more than a decade trapped in the education system comes to life infront of everyone's eyes. This is what I was born to do.

And that will be the last of us.

There is a generation that will live life not knowing what, where, how, why? They will question and question until their minds bend and their hearts sink and the people around them will worry and eventually give up.
And still, those lost people remain lost. And sad. And nothing, along with everything, means nothing.

Endless, senseless

get me out get me out.