escape, from one place to another, a different place, a window to run through, to view from, step on the sill and jump, and suddenly, the air is different, sweeter, drier, not as heavy, the sun shining, no clouds, grass not greener but purpler, even if that's not a word, it is there, and up is left, but such things, as they go on and away, well, different is always better, isn't it? should it be? different places, different worlds, different differences, if for simpler times and places and things, such are guesses and dreams, but it's so much easier to just disappear, to just turn off the outside and disappear into the gray box, and surrounded by light and sounds and voices