Each time I move down, I feel like I'm falling from the skies, down to the ground. I must have been rain drop in my last life. The fall makes my stomach go woozy. And when I go up I feel like a bird soaring into the sky in search of the right breeze to glide on.
I hate stopping at floors on each of these rises and falls. But that I guess is my only purpose in life so to speak. As you can see these are just some of my musings. Almost like that of a blind man.
(On the lift)
No comments:
Post a Comment