xnycx

We move as one. We are one being moving about on our daily jet stream toward another day. Our galaxies collide perhaps a minute an hour, or never at all. We are the living species that exists on this plain. Our morning starts off perhaps the same as others, though we know not what makes us different from the person beside us. We work the daily grind in search of a weekend only to find after a climactic finish, it once again is Monday. Breath today, breath tomorrow and the next, make something of perhaps your nothing, or of your something turned to nothing, and live.