In a world so heavy, some days, I gasp for breath.
The cosmic weight of it all crushes my lungs.
I gaze upwards, seeking a sign or inspiration.
Repeatedly, I am embraced by the world’s true face.
I wonder if this celestial art, with its vivid hues, ever looks down upon me and smiles…
if the sun sets to show me mercy as it whispers, “it’s time for rest”.

But how can I rest?
Atlas never shrugged.