We exist inside a world created by stories,
morals, and figments of imagination.
A world that at times feels so vivid, so real,
yet still a dream.
A utopia of words floating by waiting to be used.
We create sentences to explain emotions,
hurt and sadness,
but do we clearly articulate,
all that sits within and without.
In a world that works by words and images,
we seemingly float by from one realm to another,
not stopping for long enough to savor the moment.
In a world that flashes by so rapidly,
so drastically at times, we blink and repeat the same movements,
bleed the same emotions without ever knowing the reason.

It is in this deep...