Today I caught a glimpse of the sky and I became obsessed.
Once I saw it, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. How can I get out of here? I thought about a lot of ways in which I could try to escape. I’ve been trying to convince myself that this is the good life. I eat, drink, sing all I want. I know exactly how many bars make up this dwelling place of mine. They’re all very straight and organized; I’ve grown accustomed to how everything I see out there is obscured by these parallel lines. In fact, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I was ever to venture out into that unknown. If I was ever given the chance to flap these wings. I don’t know if I could survive. It would be very dangerous, I’d imagine. So even if there is a slight chance that I could find my way out of this place, I might just opt to stay here, because frankly, it’s comfortable here. I might not be flying, but I’m content.
And what about that sky that I saw earlier on today? I can’t get it out of my mind. It was so vast. It was alluring. And I could’ve sworn I saw someone else out there. What is it like out there? Why am I so curious to find out? I have everything I could ever want here. I have no complaints.
But why does my heart keep longing for the sky?