in a distant place of bright lights, high ceilings and white floors, walls do not exist. and yet strangely, these high ceilings stay suspended in the air, as if being held steady by thin threads of invisibe nylon, connecting to nowhere in particular, perhaps to outer space. or maybe by a really large puppeteer's strings.
being sandwiched in this nondescript vista, fumes of isolation penetrate my pores and corrupt my lungs. if i walk a little further, i might find a way out, or even meet someone whose destiny is to be here with me. instead, i sit down on these ice cold floors that have already numbed my bare feet, and somehow rendered my feelings useless. seemingly a long time ago.
and so i cry out as loud as i want, as long as i could, for no one to hear, no one to see. close my eyes and fall into a deep dreamless sleep, with the sound of wind i cannot feel, rushing past my ears.
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