We have been sleeping for so many years.
Feebly running around trying to catch our own tails,
accomplishing nothing but exhaustion.
But something has been growing in the blind spot.
Something dark. Something golden and lovely.
Getting bigger by the minute, always staying just out of sight.
It has grown too much. It can no longer fit in the shadows.
Rings are appearing on the surface of the lonely lake.
A strange noise is heard in the empty house.
Voices murmur in the back of your head.
What is this awakening?
A terrible insight…?
A wonderful beast…?
A slightly late 30-year-crisis…?
Sometimes all we need is a slap in the face to wake up.
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