Inside the box ... Where no one has ever been walls carved with memories, hopes and dreams. A small river pass by with reflections from the past and small creatures dreaming of a better future. Inside the box where no one has ever been except me ... Yes me. Inside this box where I usually trap myself and I no longer search for the keys, drawing patters and images about how life outside could be.
As days go by I start to see a silver lining passing through the cracks of the box walls, start to grab a chair and sit beneath the light hoping one day to be set free. I keep on asking myself if my soul is trapped inside the box created by the past and created by a culture that one day will be obsolete. The cracks start to get bigger and bigger as days go by and i could for the fist time hear the birds singing outside the dark box of despair. So the question is whether freedom exist inside or outside the box , do these cracked walls became your home sneaking out some light from here and there. Do i belong to the darkness or the light ?
I'm not that strong to break the walls with my hammer of knowledge nor I strong enough to find my way back to the box,so you wait for a chance ... someone to show you the way out or the way back in. A dream that could and couldn't be and for the first time of my life i start searching beneath the old trees for the box's keys , wondering if i'll ever find them or i'll have to break the walls in order to find me.
