maybe because we are so different, like worlds apart, maybe that is why we do what we do and stay perfectly content. Maybe because we all wish for the same in the end, or maybe because some days are days where everything go wrong, and those days sometimes turn into weeks, and the weeks sometimes turn into months, and we forget what it was like to do something right. to be happy. Maybe it is the waves in the sea, brushing against the stoney shores, caressing it like someone in love, maybe that is why. Maybe because it is winter and the world has frozen and the air stands still and we have all mentally hid inside our igloos, similar to the way a caterpillar hides inside its cocoon, hiding from the world until it is ready to come out and show off. There are no set reasons to why it is this way today, but it is, there is nothing more to say.