It's kindof like having nothing to keep you down or to keep you from leaving; no roots beneath your feet. If you were stuck in one place, you'd try to take the sky down with you (like a tree takes as much light as it can and only branches out further and wider toward it's goal -- like it's eating the sky), but you're free to forget; free to ignore whatever you don't like. You'll be gone sooner than you normally admit. A stray dog, wandering everywhere, weighing the consequences, defying it's loyal nature by necessity alone. You eat the scraps and take anything and everything you can get. If you relied on anything before, you don't now.

Oh well.

What does an animal dream about if it doesn't have an imagination?

"Should you return, you are my Sunshine."