Do you ever think that you wern’t made for office slavery?

Do you ever think that that’s not in your DNA? That you were made for a different world?

A world where you climbed mountains and drank from waterfalls?

How could you get to that world?

Riding horseback with your hair blazing in the wind, trampling garbage cans with your hooves.

How could you find a horse here?

You would make it

Out of paper