A sadness has gripped our house. Its a sadness no one acknowledges, or even feels. It's a sadness because of the lack of sadness. The spark of innocence has been snuffed from our hearts. We had been living in darkness with candles lit, whispering excitedly of the wonders that must await us outside, if only we would look. If only we were old enough to understand. We squatted in squalor, but always hopeful that it could get better. That there was an outside, and we could go there someday.
And suddenly, savagely, the curtains have been thrown back. And there is nothing there. The land outside is barren, as uninviting as this house that has gone unlived and unloved our whole lives. Suddenly we understand that there was never anything out there for us, as there was nothing in here or anywhere else. And you all don't even see the change in yourselves. The candles are no longer necessary, the whispers are now silenced, and the excitement is gone. You drift out the door, eyes squinting, with no where to go.
But I will not leave. I will stay here. I will stay in this house. And I will light a fire, one that will catch to all the dead brush out there. I will clear the earth of what I can, and I will grow what I can. I will show you that the world we dreamt of is still waiting for us out there.
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