They were dreamers, dreamers who lived by their own hearts in a strange world. Unadulterated hearts that have not been seen by the One Percent and branded as ‘unfamiliar’, ’ unpredictable’ or ‘unsure’.

Cameras follow the awakening of the city and airwaves are tapped. Face recognition becomes the standard. Communication is stored and filed under serial numbers.
Propaganda is surreptitiously assimilated. Tailored smiles assure the happiness that comes with materialism. Rebellion is quenched quietly and peace becomes discipline.

In this day, defiance comes in the form of thought. Thoughts about the beauty of vulnerabilities that desire the unreachable stars, of sunshine in rain and rainbows after and fireflies that dance in the moonlight and weave forbidden stories of love love love.

Poems are written and burnt. Songs are sung in whispers and scratched into memory. Life is regulated. Information is selectively filtered. But thoughts, thoughts run wild.