exist.

I wake up, finding myself strangely out of place in my pajamas and all; I'm in a field, with roses and lilies lolling in the light spring rain. The hills ran ad infinitum, and the great expanse of nature overwhelms my senses. Such beauty! I take a breath, and I can feel my soul instantly rejuvenating. I feel so young again, like all those aches were just illusions. All the stress at work, all the angst from relationships, all the loneliness - blown away by the spring winds. I pranced, became a jog, became a sprint down the hills. I am alive! Such wonders reaffirm my existence; I exist for this, not for my work or my love or anything else; I exist because I can, and I will! But as I proclaimed my existence, I remembered a distant dream; some undone work, unpaid taxes and bills, failed relationships - it all began to manifest.

A dark lightning struck across the panorama. The landscape shattered. The hills tore apart like a ripped painting, an abandoned artwork forsaken by its anonymous artist; The light spring rain became a summer storm; The roses wilted, turned black, died. The winds roared, no longer on my side. My world shook violently as it fell, crumbled to pieces as always. I did what I could to protect myself, whenever my reality collapsed - I went to sleep. 

I am in a dream, and the alarm clock rings 7 o'clock. I went by boring routines like brushing my teeth (why am I even dreaming of such mundane things?) and washing my face. I wore what every man in society wore - a suit, tie, black leather shoes - and went down to hail a cab. At the crossroads I brushed my shoulders with this young man - he did remind me of my younger self - and went to my workplace. How many years has it been, and how many more years shall I stay here? Does not matter, must work. 

I sat down, and began to start work. Pan out and you'll never even realize I exist. I exist because I must, because I am. I am but a cog in the Machine.

I can't wait to wake up to my beautiful reality again.