What's the Prerequisite? August 28, 2002 - 4:25 p.m.

There are times when the same old world isn't quite itself. The same old block of rocks and water. The same old people. The same old places. The same old experiences played over again and again like the cult film in a small theater for its hungry fans.

Then there are days when you wake up in a new world. Smells are different. Colours have a whole new personality. Leaves on the trees have a new layer of detailed texture, like a rippling pond reflecting emotion as opposed to light. Obstructive walls are as transparent as glass and as dense as an October fog. Grass is always brilliant, covered in a slight mist of dew and tickling tiny toes. Air is sweet. Sounds aren't slicing through ear drums... they simply float around like wandering butterflies.

Why can't we remain in the new world? Who's responsible for always stealing it away and locking it up, far from reach, making it all their own and no one else's? Why didn't their mommy teach them how to share such lovely things with people... even people who are undeserving and unappreciative?

Is that why I can't live there? Am I not deserving? I feel that I appreciate it, more than anyone could know.

Where's my golden ticket?

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