Drugged.
I look at the ceiling. White. With glowing stars and moons and rocket ships. Some asteroids and comets colliding. Nice. A splendid view. Magical. Glamorous. Calming my senses.
I see my angel up on my ceiling. Smiling plainly at me. With frozen tears. Wearing a cloak of sadness. And then I ask myself: what does the angel do up there? What is my angel? What is an angel?
Fly. I fly away. From my bed to my ceiling. And maybe in a while, I will fly out from my window. Uh-oh.... This is not suicide. It's just a lovely escape away from YOU.
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Life in a rush. Love in still motion.
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