It's in every single one of us.
There is something oddly comforting about stop lights. Especially stop lights at night, during summer. The air is sticky and sweet and it's warmth evelopes you completely, wrapping those acrid molecules around your tiny face. And as you casually look around, from car to car. From Mercedes to Pinto, people are quitely living their own lives and singing to their own tunes and pondering the universe...or their next meal. Somewhere between Motzart and the smoky exhaust a happy little balance is discovered. Just behind the painted white lines and just below the swinging traffic light. For a split second, right before red switches to green we are all the same, we are all sitting pretty on blackened asphalt, tar and decadence. Haphazardly thrown together, what an eclectic mix of bodies. Because in the end, that's all the world is really made of. Souls colliding together and then seperating again. Cars and people and cars. Just as quickly as we are brought together, outside forces tear us apart again. Over and over, it is inevitible. The universe says 'go' and we do, we all leave and speed away. And for some reason, it is oddly comforting.