Outside, temperatures reached levels where water turns in to ice. The construction surrounding me, what some people call a house, didn’t prevent the cold to touch me. Glancing through the window, staring at the empty grey sky, without any trace of sunshine or clouds; there is just nothing there. The branches of the trees hanging completely still, like they are glued at a museum wall. Almost like a moment before a storm breaks loose.
Here I sit. Behind the window, staring outside. I watch the birds flying around and searching the trees for food. Fallen leaves on the ground just lie there in agony, and even if it’s still the daylight, everything seems surrounded by the dark.
A deepness, unknown, is alive inside of me. I’m not sure if it’s the black hole, I don’t know why I don’t know but I just don’t know. I’m not in my best condition, that’s for sure. I would almost say I feel life closing in some ways, but it’s probably just a miscommunication or short circuit in my brain. Where is the light?
The switch on the wall, is just a switch. No matter if you press it or not, it doesn’t matter. Nothing happens. The white wall is there. The grey wall is there. Traces of blue paint, where they don’t belong. A bunch of cd’s, just sitting in their boxes, waiting to be able to hear their own sounds again – but it doesn’t seem like someone will open them and set them free. A flashlight, out of function, stands as a statue in the storm – a mighty weapon, but even mighty weapons can be useless if they can’t make a move.