The Colourless Shell

Experimenting again.

You're hiding, your frigid fingers, with their apathetic tips, clutching your

knees and your arms wrapped around your thighs to keep yourself away

from the world. You keep yourself away from the world too big,

too strong for you. The world: it's too big for you. That's why

you're cowering. You wonder why those video-games minutely ranked

on the shelf are all so distant to you when they were so close to you moments

before. You wonder, you wonder why your video-games, your fun,

is all so distant, all a far-away seemingly untrodden and unknown land to

your eyes. You wonder, you wonder how did you get there, why are

you here, why you're wondering, why you're paralyzed by your words

and their images. These images, mere images, they are, but they are

just powerful enough to kill everything that makes you stand up, and

you wonder, painfully, why. And the clock thicked 12, and you're still

here. And you're growing smaller and smaller. And time is a shutting jaw and

you're growing smaller and smaller...

But that's just all perspective, ain't it?