Somewhere out beyond the walls travel buses and aeroplanes full of people. Living people.
They laugh at knock-knock jokes and groan a grin at terribly clever puns. Terrible ones.
They run and twirl through marathons and hip-hop duels. Between isles. Over seats.
They play games to pass the time, they sing songs to pass the days, they tell stories to pass the years.
Until they arrive at their destination.
Did you know?
If you circle an aeroplane enough you’ll break the world record. For fun.
Did you know?
If you drive long enough, you might hit the end of the world. Race that bus.
They don’t know any difference though. Those aeroplane or bus passengers.
So truly, the record breaking moment leaves no more impression. Than peanut butter.
They don’t even have that.
It leaves no more impression than baking a birthday cake over the hotplate in the crew cabin.
Someone had a few boxes of those instant mixes which will stay fresh until they drop off at the end of the world. In lava.
They’ve forgotten the world now. The dirt, root-tangled, leaves and lions one.
They have a new one. A normal one.
Living in the circles made by the aeroplane in atmosphere.
Living in the tunnel which never ends in the light of day.
If they can live in aeroplanes and buses which never reach a destination.
Maybe we can too.
Did you know?
The darkness cannot comprehend the light which shines within it because it is darkness.
If you do not know it. You cannot find it.
Shine your light in the darkness. It does not know you. It cannot judge you.
Ride you own bus, your single-seater aeroplane to infinity.
One day you might smell the end. It has peanut butter.
Until then. Keep driving.
