How does one become ordinary? When do moments so magical turn into the mundane? These elusive, fleeting things we hold on to so tightly, do they escape us in our sleep? When we are not looking? When we are having our morning coffee or driving to work? Is the loss an inevitability we all choose to ignore?
What then do dreamers and romantics hope for, all those hours under the stars? What then of the fairytales and happily ever afters that we all dream of as little girls? What happens when you cease to believe in big words like destiny, and love, and faith?
In a world with filled with people following motions but devoid of direction, when will we realize that not all that glitters is gold?