Nothing seems quite as bad since I painted my walls white. The darkness has no room to grow and the light bounces around my room with undescribable radiance. My thoughts manifest into sublime realities and my goals and aspirations no longer seem so far fetched. Black magic is not practiced or thought about. Those who like to dabble in the dark, or dance with the devil, find absolutely no place in my heart.

My eyes look for the real and the pure of heart. I can see through the fake and the wicked as if they are made of glass. I spend my Saturdays with loved ones, and my Sundays belong to God. I remember the days of my despairs and I don't categorize them as regrets, but rather lessons. The sunrise peaks through my windows each morning and my white walls glow luminously, assuring a bright start to my day.

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