Powdered colors thrown in my face do nothing. I’m not even annoyed. I feel numb. My vision is closed in, desaturated.
The happy dancing crowd, that grating cheer, *they* make me feel “something.” Replacements for emptiness: Anger. Loathing. Malice...
Why won’t they all just die? And take me with them? No, they’d probably try to “save” me. That thought just makes me even more anguished and hateful.
I will have to do this myself. But as a coward, I’m forced to wait until not trying does me in.
In due time. Then even the dullness will fade, like the colors.