Doow-yll-oh, a close, yet faraway land where aspiring, artisic souls roam. Burning and raging with urgency--as if fantasies of "making it" inch away with each passing moment.
A land with kings, emperors, beggars, and peasants. Where royalty resides in glittering palaces deep in the hills and peasants rummage in the city's forgotten crevices.
Behind closed eyes, the commoners grasp the hills with a constricting force, salivating for a sweet drop of fame. Only to awaken to the cold, unrelenting streets. Reality. They are slave to the master: desire, which unforgivingly chews, swallows, and spits them out.
Only a select few make it to the hills. Yet, the question still begs: have they overcome the master? Or are they, like the peasants, starving to satisfy an insatiable desire?
The wheels spin on and on. Faster and harder all the time. Regardeless of status, the notion of success and fame lingers, like bait in an ocean of hungry spirits.
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