I arrived late. I’m just sitting on the frost covered stairs chasing my thoughts but they took charge of me and I am not able to escape. I can see the faded faces around me, they seem so dark. All the smiles have been swapped by a false illusion. I want to believe in vain that everything will turn out to be good, that the lead-heavy anguish will just drop off of me. Everything is so colourless. My world has run out of colours, I don’t know anymore what flame-red and smile-green looks like.
I’m watching my surroundings through my pupils for a moment, and then I realise again that everything seems much cosier with closed eyes. I can feel how much this whirlpool wants to pull me in, but I strain my body to make sure I won’t give any space for the long sought happiness. I’d rather just sit on the frost covered stairs.
