The world is still spinning at its usual pace, but little by little everything has started to slow down in your head. The sun shines day and night here, it is stiflingly hot and the wind, far from cooling, only moves the dunes from one place to another. Ideas don't fly like they used to but move desperately slowly and many end up being buried by the sand. There are no oases or palm trees in this sober desert; the only trace of hope is a familiar voice singing a beautiful melody in the distance to guide you like a lighthouse in this sea of sand.