Look at the lines. They all meet and end the same. Straight. In life people are different but it all seems the same. Broken. Broken—like the boxes. Broken. The lines are life. Never complete. Always broken. The same. But is it...? We are different but everywhere, always, it seems broken. But does it have to be...?
Once again, me, my mind, and @HurricaneCumulus inspiring meh or whatever...