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The days of my high school years left me in a daze. Each day was equally as mechanical as any other day of the year. The gears seemed to grind against each other so patiently beneath the arms of the classroom clocks, but it seemed like whenever I would leave this dull reality, the engines of my mind-frame would erupt, and just like the daytime - I could fly.

I soared up into the bright blue sky, free of worry and doubt. I looked down at everybody I knew, waving at me in the air. I wasn't sure if they were waving hello, or saying goodbye as I ascended upwards. Maybe, I didn't give a damn.

Eventually, I vanished above and beyond the highest clouds, and I realized that there wasn't really much to be seen up there besides empty skies and a gleaming sun. It was great, to say the least. I could feel the sensation of the sun, burning my skin, and I gleamed until the sun finally set on the other side of the world. I tried to chase it, but I quickly lost my sense of direction.

Then, I finally realized how dark and alone it was... to detach myself... from the world beneath the clouds.