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Description
     My mind used to be a maze, M.C. Escher style. I used to stroll through its halls as I played temptress to attract visitors, beguiling whoever dared to peek. I was a multidimensional, versicolored adventure. I was the ride everyone wanted to try at the Amusement Park; I was a self-promoting circus freak.
     Unfortunately, when my enchantment would break, I would push everyone away in less subtle ways than hanging 'do not disturb' signs at my entrance. I would crush the aisles and alleyways only to rebuild new ones with stronger materials and brighter colors, 'reconstructing' what I thought my underdeveloped masterpiece. Those days, my wonderland was an artificial and hostile landscape only standing as a testament to my neuroses.
     On the days I returned from that chasm of disappointment, once the memories of murdered unicorns and stifled butterflies never really happened, I would be dream girl: adorable in my complexity. O, I was such a case! Such a special case. A case so dull it had to be eternally embellished with Venetian Red, Ultramarine, and Golden Yellow arranged in patternless swirls: the more irrecognisable, the more unique. You see, to me, uniqueness was godly and, well, I always wanted to be god…-ly.
     Recently, as I did not upkeep my fabrication with frequent, nurturing visits and ‘reconstruction’ due lack of time (and some say maturity and wisdom from lessons I could swear I don’t remember learning), it has disappeared. Me, gone. But not really. I suspect that the labyrinth has turned into dark matter and some trickster has turned off the lights. I only have a minimalist night lamp with a short cord on hand. I can’t walk anywhere without light, for you see, I’m afraid of the dark. As a result, I’m restricted in a corner near the entrance surrounded by chipped gray paint and bad lighting that only makes it worse. I scribbled something in the wall with my last aubergine crayon but it disappeared the next day, that trickster again.

I have no more dedication and I’m clinging to my memories of this place.

I woke up and found that pesky little trickster –or should I call him torturer- had chained me to the wall. Now I’m forced to stare at the unattainable and unexplorable vastness of my creation with the lights off, probably deteriorating.

I screamed "WHERE DO I GO FROM HERE?" but there was no one around to answer. I knew there wouldn't be but I tried (and I failed before it even occured to me). I'm too weak to get out. I surrender, it was never worthwhile anyway.

Description
     My mind used to be a maze, M.C. Escher style. I used to stroll through its halls as I played temptress to attract visitors, beguiling whoever dared to peek. I was a multidimensional, versicolored adventure. I was the ride everyone wanted to try at the Amusement Park; I was a self-promoting circus freak.
     Unfortunately, when my enchantment would break, I would push everyone away in less subtle ways than hanging 'do not disturb' signs at my entrance. I would crush the aisles and alleyways only to rebuild new ones with stronger materials and brighter colors, 'reconstructing' what I thought my underdeveloped masterpiece. Those days, my wonderland was an artificial and hostile landscape only standing as a testament to my neuroses.
     On the days I returned from that chasm of disappointment, once the memories of murdered unicorns and stifled butterflies never really happened, I would be dream girl: adorable in my complexity. O, I was such a case! Such a special case. A case so dull it had to be eternally embellished with Venetian Red, Ultramarine, and Golden Yellow arranged in patternless swirls: the more irrecognisable, the more unique. You see, to me, uniqueness was godly and, well, I always wanted to be god…-ly.
     Recently, as I did not upkeep my fabrication with frequent, nurturing visits and ‘reconstruction’ due lack of time (and some say maturity and wisdom from lessons I could swear I don’t remember learning), it has disappeared. Me, gone. But not really. I suspect that the labyrinth has turned into dark matter and some trickster has turned off the lights. I only have a minimalist night lamp with a short cord on hand. I can’t walk anywhere without light, for you see, I’m afraid of the dark. As a result, I’m restricted in a corner near the entrance surrounded by chipped gray paint and bad lighting that only makes it worse. I scribbled something in the wall with my last aubergine crayon but it disappeared the next day, that trickster again.

I have no more dedication and I’m clinging to my memories of this place.

I woke up and found that pesky little trickster –or should I call him torturer- had chained me to the wall. Now I’m forced to stare at the unattainable and unexplorable vastness of my creation with the lights off, probably deteriorating.

I screamed "WHERE DO I GO FROM HERE?" but there was no one around to answer. I knew there wouldn't be but I tried (and I failed before it even occured to me). I'm too weak to get out. I surrender, it was never worthwhile anyway.