Ever been through a time when you thought you were the only thing in the world, unique and significant. Someone that mattered to everyone and nothing mattered to you. Someone that caused the winds to go the other way. someone who could see in the dark, someone who could count the droplets of rain. When everything had a second chance. You could take all the risks in the world. You had nothing to lose. You thought you could time travel ! When every day you had the same world to go outside to. Every day you tried new things because you were sure you would have the same world in the same precise proportions every darn day. You could measure the exact angle at which the pigeon took off every morning from the edge of your balcony. Somewhere above the clouds a colossal clock was ticking! Tick, Tick, Tick. That was the sound in your head wasn’t it? And all what you did was, tap your foot with it. Tick, Tick, Tick. It was fun to race against time, and winning it, was epic! You never realized while passing by it, how mighty it was. And one day while running. You woke up, running. The pigeon had flown away and a hideous crow was sitting there instead. Dark, cold and motionless. It takes off, you try to measure the angle with all your confidence but a dozen more fly away from within it in that same instance, all of them in completely different directions. Scattered. What happened? Did you lose your touch? Focus shifts, and you look back at the path that you came running on. The moment you turn around you see the time that you had outran and left behind steaming right at you. This time the time passes slowly. You look at it frame by frame, slowly as it approaches you. And with a jolting force, it pushes you away and then slowly, frame by frame, runs over you. You feel it crushing your feet, your legs all the way up to your head, crushing your skull, and when you have felt every instance of agony in every cell of your body, Woosh!! it races away. You rise to your feet and look around. The pigeon is on the floor, dead. The crow is there to stay, with a stern expression on its face, stone cold! And now one by one you put all your experiences inside your head through the hole in your skull, like empty bullet shells. What now? Every morning you get up and run, slowly and steadily, with the world on your shoulders and the crow on the balcony, chasing time.