For some reason, you feel your spirit lift within you.
It's invigorating, in a way, to feel the cold dampness of the Earth under your feet (you forgot to put shoes on).
Unsurrounded by a metal prison, you are free to roam wherever you please.
Hours past.
You reach the school, but for some reason, you keep walking.
Where are you going?
Nobody knows.
All you can be certain of is that you are free, and there is nothing in the world to hold you back.
You take the first step into a new tomorrow.
You reach towards the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us.
Tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther. . . . And then one fine morning. . .
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.