. . . .

I woke up this morning looking up to the sky on the horizon. Secluded in a box of nothingness grinning to the black clouds that crawled spreading their greyness to the constant light blue. The light that was white, that was warm, that was kind; that was blinding, that was burning, that was menacing. The blue that was airy, that was cool, that was gentle; that was hard, that was all that.

I am wrapped up inside the grey, thinking that it is okay. But it is somehow too hollow here, too frozen. . . .