My friends and I made a habit of chasing the sun`s rise. We thought if we could just get a little higher, maybe we too would burn to ashes like Icarus in flight. We would climb white mountains and cross lush, emerald jungles. We would endure the desert`s sands of time, and wade through rivers of rum.
All of this and more, if only we could graze the sun and burn some sense into our tired, beaten minds. We chased the sun`s rise as surely as the moon did, around the globe and back again. We chased the sun`s rise like a child chases dreams, becoming an astronaut in the safety of their own bedroom, lights off and drowning in the sea of stars plastered to their ceiling.
We chased, chased, and chased some more. It took me years to realize we were never really chasing the sun`s rise, but merely running from the inevitable fall of night.