The buildings towered overhead. We had been driving all night through the freeways and byways. There were structures lit up along the way. They seemed to be forms that housed nothing in particular. They were lonely roads. Nothing looked familiar. It looked alien. They felt empty. Occasionally there was a petrol station. There was darkness otherwise all along the way. The streets were lit up. The structures were lit up. We were somewhere within ourselves. Wasn’t this exactly what we didn’t want? It was the only way back to the city. There was nowhere else to go. If you walked into the wilderness there was no coming back. You couldn’t survive out there. The structures were simply a sign. They told you of civilisation. Of warmth. Of glowing lights. We were driving for hours before we arrived. The city seemed less welcoming. It was full of unfamiliar buildings and lights. It has no purpose but to drive people away. To drive people mad. To drive them to keep the machine going. To keep the whole illusion going. When would the lights go out? When would we be driven back into the forests? It was a machine. It kept us all alive.