Water sprays over dark rocks. Wind curving, catching everything in its grasp. Hollow sounds with no meaning dance into my numb ears. My eyes skim the ground, grave concrete greeting me. Fast-paced feet trudge, in stiff work shoes, rushing to pressuring jobs,. This could be the day I die. They die. Why am I, and all of us, wasting our lives? Watching days, months and even years pass us by without even a single thought. As if uncaring! No answer greets me.

My head raises slightly. We all have to change. One person has to give the message. Why not me?

Through the harsh wind aiming straight for me, I see the silhouette of Te Papa across the harbour. Shouldn’t all of us capture moments with our hearts and treasure them? Shouldn’t we all take a stand against the cruel way of the world and have hope? In the end, the world is just made out of smoke and mirrors, used by us to hide what is really beneath the surface. It’s all an illusion.

My mind is racing. What will stop people in their tracks? What will make them see what is around them? What will make them treasure themselves and every moment they live?

Music. Pure notes spreading stories of happiness and hope. My first memories are embedded with music and dreams. I take a look around me. Frank Kitts Park stands like a protector behind me. The harbour holding me in its strong hand. Confidence floods through me like electricity. I can do this. I could change the world. I really could.

I stand tall. I brace myself. I prepare myself for what could come. The time has come to take a stand. Fate has pulled me to this moment. I tilt my head to the sky; the fast-paced clouds race each other. Music pours out of my mouth like a waterfall. The skittish feet come to a stop. Heads turn, curiosity winning them over. Their thoughts are clear.
“Who is this girl?” “What does she mean we are wasting our lives?” Their faces then fill with wonder. Their brains now crammed with answers to their previous questions.

In this moment, people are feeling and capturing with their heart. Peace hangs over us like a blanket, not smothering, but protecting us from the cold and the harsh ways of the world. The illusion has been broken.