the empty image

an image - black and white in visual - empty in thinking. yet the crowds look onward...uninterrupted by the jaded air in which they breath. bleary eyes look away. fallen bodies embrace the deadness of their sleep. an idea and then hope. the image is not so black and white, anymore. blurring into one, it is gray. evolution in disparity decreasing imaginative theory. the waiting has begun and the clock still ticks. there is nothing more to tell. nothing more to hear, except the soft, neurotic sound of tick, tock...

tick, tock.

..................................

misled hope. i am still here and the clock is still ticking. someone take away this image.

wake me from this dream.