I turn around. Person. Or rather this kid who stares at me, the rage in the belly, eyes angry. It does not follow me. I ahead. Matter of semantics. I look straight ahead. An almost empty plain, a few trees die on which swings older. Some people appear at once and are then caught in the landscape, like that little game of hippos that need to tap it. Except I do not really need to type. They know they are too. They know I want to join them. They know that it will take time and it will not necessarily be the greatest moment of my life.
So I stare at the horizon, the rage in the belly, eyes angry. And I walk in the same direction.
(Korn - Korn III: Remember Who You Are - Roadrunner)
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