The Groove

Nothing but the hills claim that horizon. One moment it is all green and light and the next, everything turns gloomy, misty and grey in front of your eyes; precisely unlike everything else you have ever known. There are less than six trees in your sight; nevertheless, you will never get to count them. Whilst arrived, you should better forget all the logic and reason, which burdens you from this world. Forget the life you are living here and give in!

You gaze upon the cloudy sky, the snow falls on your warm cheeks, you stare at the clouds and the sunshine blindfolds you; unable to take your eyes off it, until you believe to see every single ray of light. Something keeps whispering, singing and chanting that “You’re almost there!”, you feel the urge to cross the distance and finally get ‘there’ without ever knowing where ‘there’ is.