Wobbly legs carry me down the sidewalk, slowly treading, with trembling steps over confessioning stones polished with tears and pitted with sour smiles. Icy wind breath wanders tricky streets and breaks on my face painted with mask of unreality. Feelings fade into the background under persistent personalities, crisp white lines merged into reflective rock, polished reflection rejects smile tyrants. Gossamer web of lies covering the gloomy square and bystanders carried by industrial superstition. Shadows of electronic slaves are trailing down realistic borders of suspicious subconscious, their plastic smiles touching me. Pouring out of houses covered with leather useless wallets and paved with extinct bills. In the middle of the square of lost stands the well of career guidance. The reflection of toxic siliconised water  deceptively shows false images of an imaginary future. If I were harlequin I'd remove this mask of nightmares, step through the ****** eyelids curtain and walk on the blinding stage illuminated by the light of reality, but I am Harlequin, my mask is permanent.