Don’t what to go back. Don’t what to go back to that time of love and hate and confusion and and suns exploding and white brushes of color and sleep.
What to stay in my corner, my little shadow of life, my cool/warm corner, no extremes, no interest, just smoothly blending colors of a soft dark grey and creamy white, not harsh, no awareness. Soft chairs and soft cloths, nothing to look at, for who know what one might see? Who knows... Could burn your eyes, could scar your mind. Better to be left in to the soft shadow of protection. Nothing to worry about, no worries, no trouble, no pain, no joy. No strange, no worries. For who needs worries; everything is fine, why know about something bad if its going to happen anyway? There’s no point in knowing, you cant protect your self from it, you cant do anyTHING! Your shadow of protection will save you, and if it doesn’t and when they brush away the cobwebs of your protection, they will see a blank in your eyes, one that comes from never knowing what’s coming, never knowing what happened. One minute sleeping in your drugged existence under the shadow, the next, dead.