“Those neon-lights just starting to glow.”
“Those people just started stepping out down on the road.”
“Those crowd are started gathering and soon it’d be a flood of moving legs flowing in a stream but going nowhere.”
“Still this wave rises. Everyday.”
“But why this happens everyday? Why this cycle keeps on rolling and rolling though it still stands in the same place where it began?”
“May be this is what they call life. Running and running but as a matter of fact not going. After all, you gotta keep rolling to keep yourself away from the moss. May be they come out everyday to know what’s going around, what’s out there, to face the reality.”
“But… is it true? They ride on the wave each neon-flooded night to face the reality? Really is it so? Or the reverse? Isn’t it that they want to escape from the reality by losing themselves each night amidst that huge surge.”
“But what’s the reality they’re escaping from?”
“Look at them yourself. What you see?”
“I look at all the lonely people.”
“That’s why they wander every single night out there right down these neon-lights. To forget that they’re lonely.”
“Among this crowd they feel they’re a part of it. They keep themselves this assurance that they ain’t lonely.”
“That’s what I think. This crowd is hollow. Out there in this crowd, everybody is nobody.”
“But if nobody’s everybody then someone can be anybody. Right?”
“You mean like the Walrus?”
“I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together. Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to say.”
“Interesting.”
“I mean if they’re all lonely don’t you think somehow they’re actually together.”
“Huh… may be…”
