How many hours do you while away, staring into distant imaginings, painting futures in bright palettes while forgetting the slog of a path that needs walking in front of you? Count down the minutes remaining of quarantine, but how much of a difference will it really make? This small plot of land inside the old tenement is all you've seen for months. Why do we try to build brighter futures when all we really want is something unexpected to come from outside and blow our plans out of the water?
There, I said it.
I'm building entire castles in the sky,
but it's really only for how spectacular they'll look
as fireworks.
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