Each day you wake up, hoping for that magical rebirth that will uplift you and clear your head
But it never happens
Each day is a blanket of stress, constricting you untils its squeezed the life out of you and you go to bed
and that's it.
But somewhere under the covers, there is a beautfiul utopia inviting you in
And that, is the theatre.
You walk into that vast unknown where hundreds of stories have been told
But they still care about just you.
You look at that stage. A vast canvas waiting for you to step up and paint moving scenes
You are special. Becasue you have created a life for people who have never lived before- an oasis where your stress vanishes and life is so different than your own.
You laugh, you cry. You feel.
You cross the boundaries of good and evil, which is which? We are just beings searching for our own happiness- searching for some purpose in this vast blanket of stress
And you soon realize, there is no such thing as a magical rebirth
but there are moments
moments of joy
These moments are who we are
So there is never rebirth, but every day
Is new life