Pass On

Once dreamed fantasy made me run voluntarily to distant lands of fun, filled every split second, required life's sacrifice, be flexible at any places with images of dressed up accordingly: the suit, glasses, the faces, copy someone's grimacing, mimicking phrases, play game 'follow the leader', whenever it brings, even to a latrines to show your passion alike sitting on whoopee cushion, and fart just in time to call the motion of important person to receive the promotion - led to the loss of self... Who am I? Am I invisible of something? In this chain of characters, subordinated to instructions, algorithms of behavior haven't recognized myself in a mirror, how easy to give up your responsibilities to leader... Slow down, step wide, one woman - the island at least for while to collect parts unclaimed, allow herself be unique, not tamed, and take the road less traveled

Image credit: scenicreflections.com