It is the oldest and best story teller. I am one of many who listens. One old theatre with velvet seats and crunchy floors. One of many in the concrete jungle. One gateway to thousands of worlds. From my seat I experience long awaited journeys, eyes fixated on the tragedies and triumphs of heroes.
Its history is deep. It has established strongly rooted relationships. Stories grow and mature as I do, but the floor is still littered with the same stale popcorn, lost change, and folded tickets of excited fans. This is my home.
Chatter dissipates as the lights dim, and I am transported to an alternate universe, leaving reality and problems behind. Deep, rich visuals greet me. I am home.
I take on more responsibilities as time changes me, yet, I still make time for a piece of my youth that has shaped me, and fed me ambitions. When all other plans fall through, it still stands. One popcorn covered floor. One neon covered piece of concrete. One who was always there, and always will be.