He lays in the reins-Calexico and Iron and Wine

In 1949 George Orwell completed the English classic “1984”. This futuristic novel depicts an idea of world civilization driven into a dry age of middle-class slavery by totalitarian bureaucracies who use computers to monitor and control humankind. Actions, even thoughts were restricted by politically controlled entities called “Thought Police”. Food was rationed, colours banned, even passion was forbade. Any trace of worlds of past were re-written to equal the government’s ever changing tyrannical rule, with that unsolicited kindness too became bitterly lost in legend. 

Years of brutal adaptation turn humanity into a grossly calculated system cored around the corruption of truth. Orwell’s own words set claim to the books significance as ”to alter other people's idea of the kind of society they should strive after.” He would die the following year from tuberculosis.

 

This sketch was drawn in Central Park of a stranger. When he woke it had been fixed for him to find. And that’s its story.

Twenty-Four years after Orwell’s postdated theory, it’s the small pieces of happiness, like one's acknowledgement of elegance that are still highest in saturated value.

Remember the joy of catching a firefly? As fantastic as a huge firework display will always be, which embodies more cherished wonder? 

Simply,

A