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28th April,

There was no tinge of earthy loam in the air.

The seething mass of humanity jostled.

Similar thoughts grooved their minds,

Like a herd following a blind shepherd.

The roughness of the bench felt rather pleasing.

An induced familiarity threatened to overwhelm me.

All I could hear was the sound of their moving feet against asphalt.

It was no longer just a joyous park but a trap.

Some caught up in business,

Some boasting of their riches,

Some faking their intelligence,

And some just forced to live.

The crowd moved together like one being, having one brain.

It was a hideous creature with a red satin blindfold and 'facade' carved on it.

It walked straight with palpable authority.

It extended its hand and said,

' All you have to do is pretend a little

To be a part of this world of fame and bliss. '

Everything paused,

' How would it feel to be an individual in a crowd,

Or is it even possible to follow one's path? ', I thought.

Burning infringement hissed through my body,

Demanding a release in the form of unwanted madness.

A weird feeling consumed me,

Engulfing my mind and

Destroying my boundaries of pretence

White knuckles from clenching my fists too hard

Gritting my teeth to remain silent

Summoning all my courage I finally stood up and denied the offer.

It's then i realised how fond I grew of that dull  bench.