HOME | DD

Description
Staring emptily through the window
with heavy eyes and wearing a melancholy smile,
He's biting his tongue, because he doesn't want to speak.  Because there's nothing to say.

The world changes; the stars fade to gray and streetlamps take the spotlight.  The illuminating glow lights up the roads that are empty tonight.  Empty, save for him.

Everything's still, as if the unyielding book of time has been left open at a blank page.  And tonight it's his world to explore.

Not that he needs to explore it; he knows every house, every street, every tree; he's seen it all before.  He's seen it many times, but each time it's something breath-taking and new.

In a little church down the road, there's a magical sanctuary that will take him across the universes, through past and present.  He's been everywhere, and seen everything, but for some reason it never gets old, and he's always drawn back.

From frigid mountaintops and vast, snowy hillsides, to arid deserts with poisonous monsters, to fields of golden wheat with three crosses on a distant hill, to raging rivers and luscious forests...

...cities upon cities fall upon night.  Skyscrapers with windows and ledges from which to jump, mansions of a wealthy neighbourhood in which to hide, streets along which to drive, underground lots in which to cry.

He returns to the sanctuary, looking for more.  Leaving the building into the cold dark of night, he wanders the streets aimlessly, interminably, until his weak and weary skeletal frame collapses in the dust.  And then the second journey begins.

These places are even less vague and more familiar.  And they're just as beautiful.  But they're twice, no, thrice, as heart-wrenching.  It's the land of nostalgia.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, a video player starts up.  Creaking to life, it plays scene after scene, and he plunges into each new movie as if he were reliving it all over again.  Each time, each scenario, is so vivid, it must be real.  Memory upon memory, the past is all he can see.

Sunny, summer days when joy fills the air, and he's laughing.
Cold, winter mornings in a foreign land, and his heart is breaking.
Warm, never-ending nights with the ones he loves, and he's smiling.
Lonely, bleak moments when all hope seems gone, and he's crying.

There is no cure.
There is no escape.

Description
Staring emptily through the window
with heavy eyes and wearing a melancholy smile,
He's biting his tongue, because he doesn't want to speak.  Because there's nothing to say.

The world changes; the stars fade to gray and streetlamps take the spotlight.  The illuminating glow lights up the roads that are empty tonight.  Empty, save for him.

Everything's still, as if the unyielding book of time has been left open at a blank page.  And tonight it's his world to explore.

Not that he needs to explore it; he knows every house, every street, every tree; he's seen it all before.  He's seen it many times, but each time it's something breath-taking and new.

In a little church down the road, there's a magical sanctuary that will take him across the universes, through past and present.  He's been everywhere, and seen everything, but for some reason it never gets old, and he's always drawn back.

From frigid mountaintops and vast, snowy hillsides, to arid deserts with poisonous monsters, to fields of golden wheat with three crosses on a distant hill, to raging rivers and luscious forests...

...cities upon cities fall upon night.  Skyscrapers with windows and ledges from which to jump, mansions of a wealthy neighbourhood in which to hide, streets along which to drive, underground lots in which to cry.

He returns to the sanctuary, looking for more.  Leaving the building into the cold dark of night, he wanders the streets aimlessly, interminably, until his weak and weary skeletal frame collapses in the dust.  And then the second journey begins.

These places are even less vague and more familiar.  And they're just as beautiful.  But they're twice, no, thrice, as heart-wrenching.  It's the land of nostalgia.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, a video player starts up.  Creaking to life, it plays scene after scene, and he plunges into each new movie as if he were reliving it all over again.  Each time, each scenario, is so vivid, it must be real.  Memory upon memory, the past is all he can see.

Sunny, summer days when joy fills the air, and he's laughing.
Cold, winter mornings in a foreign land, and his heart is breaking.
Warm, never-ending nights with the ones he loves, and he's smiling.
Lonely, bleak moments when all hope seems gone, and he's crying.

There is no cure.
There is no escape.