Time ticks by at the speed of a giant sloth. I feel like I'm in a kind of stupor. I'm in another universe where the trees and grass all abide, loyally, by the laws of geometry. I have an erie feeling that I don't really exist and am merely playing a role in a very large film set.
The houses all sit obediently in perfect rows and the sun sits smugly in its sparkling blue sky. The only sounds are the occasional bird and the perfect laughter of the perfect life of the perfect families.
Nothing disturbs here. No one steps into the dangerous territory of being 'different'. The only difference allowed is of the colour of the skin of the nice people who serve the perfect people. This is of course allowable because people who serve don't really exist. They are only extras on the movie set and will not have their names on the credits.
An time ticks slowly by, quietly so as not to disturb anyone. So no one notices that everyday is like the last and each season like the same season the year before. Everyone smiles as they sleepwalk, slowly, imperceptible through their wonderful, perfect lives. What a privilege.