In a sleepy town, under the sleepy covers, in a sleepy corner the mind does not sleep. The gears turn, each cog and wind pulling the strings on the knot of anxiety. Numbers, time lines, and a bouncing ball trying to sing along to no known melody.
There is an entire world available it is all a matter of opening the door. A wanderer would never tell you the lump you have to swallow to grab a hold of the door knob. A lump of fear, anxiety, even excitement.
The trick is to act like you know what you're doing. Act like you are supposed to be there. Act like one of the crowd.
And if you were born to stick out? Better luck next time.
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