Quintescence. We're all made of quintescence. Something you feel, something you know to be here. It is inside.
It is hard and rough and pure and light at a time. It floats between you and the sky. It is the only way to the stars. Many have tried to catch it, many have jumped as high as they could. So many fingers have gone through it without managing to grap it.
It doesn't flee. You are the one to go away. You are the one to go further and further in the bad direction over the years.
You were within it once. Quintescence was your cradle. But then you had to walk on your own feet and do like everybody else : throwing the cradle away. Throw the bear and the candies, all in the bin ! They're for kids after all. And you'll get to forget them anyway.
Quintescence is like every light. It likes the dark. The night is the only moment you may get a chance to see it reappear, all of a sudden, at a corner of your mind. You close your eyes, now. You relax.
All you have to do is sleeping. Sleeping and dreaming.
Dreams. The wonders of the mind. Look up to the skies and you'll see them. You'll see hands among the clouds. Hands opened going down to take you away. Female hands that came to bring you to It.