Running and running through the empty streets with the wind blowing in my face, the water molecules collide with my skin and gets in my eyes, and my clothes get soggy and heavy as I go.
No one is following me.
I am chasing something.
A shadow of a person who may or may not exist.
The shadow I chase is the vision of everything I had ever hoped for, everything I dreamed of doing, and the shadow gets further and further away, the more that I chase.
Don’t stop for me, shadow, don’t prove yourself weak in your will; keep from me all that I hope, all that I dream, for I wouldn’t want anyone to think you were frail and incompetent.
ESSENTIAL 