I was finding a corner to cringe in, but the irregular beams robbed the room of it. I'm so irritated of this light. Not the light, but the shadows to be precise. But what can you do really. If I switch it off, others will be too anxious. It's like removing your whatsapp dp. Doesn't make much sense, but it's well celebrated as an anxiety issue. Whatever I feel, I don't know but I'll pass it as "boredom". A nice word to engulf a broad spectrum of emotions.

I spend most of the time in my room. I like it here. Yesterday I had a good conversation with the wall, the one painted red. Though my psychiatrist, Dr. Dublin, asked me not to tell this to anyone. According to him, we can converse with beings who can talk back. Now I don't even wanna start on how big a discrimination it is against my victims.
But anyway, who cares.

Yep.. who cares? Well maybe some do, but let me just turn a blind eye to that, as unnecessary sympathy surely is a guilty pleasure of ours, and please don't debate over it. I could've said all this to my doc, but I'm not gonna bother him with my triple layered junked up opinion for everything. Right now he has enough to think about already. I don't know why my psychiatrists lose hope finally. This one being my 13th, promised me to really look into my case. But c'mon, we all know, humans and their promises.

Uugh, this one is among the escape artist type. Why don't they just give in. Futile efforts and energy wasted in vain. I should've tied the strap a bit tighter. Ok dear reader, if any, I have to get it over with my 13th doc. Meet you after my "stress relieving" act.

Btw, if you wanna know why I chose the red paint, I didn't. The wall is white. I'm just too lazy to clean it.
© smudgemark