In the spacious and bright room crowded with tiny human beings with gigantic desire in their eyes, their hands full of painting drops; Craving to launch those kites far up in the sky.
We could hear the echoes of their laughs and enthusiastic gibberish conversations.
Nothing mattered more in the world than a piece of wood entangled with twines and papers; flying above them.
And yet, 25 years from the nursery school; After joining the workforce of boiling cities, an entire life of tiny loops made of same weeks and weekends; There, tiny brains have to choose between good and bad, while their fingers are swapping left or right, and their eyes are desperately looking around, anything sexual or shiny or funny.
Nothing matter more now, than those small drops of dopamine pouring into the human system.