I had a name. Now it keeps slipping into darkness. Someone pulling one end of the infinite string, slowly dragging everything into the black sand, succumbing, silently. The feeling of emptiness, when all the million noises that never stopped — decided to. The feeling that nothing was ever real. A suit, shading everything, a suit that you controlled, a skin that you comfortably wear and take off, faking, not even trying to understand, listening to the distance, and not feeling what you ought to. The feeling of being alien on the inside. This can't be.
The things I believed, the emotions I trusted, the silence I loved were no longer the same, no longer mine. I found a door that opened to a bright white field, tall grass filling it till the horizons, smoke that floats up in the sky instead of the clouds. I found all this inside the darkness of these walls creeping all over, making boundaries, they tried to at least. Emerging out of a cocoon, breathing for the first time, like in the first rain. I felt what it is like to fly, without wings, without being told how to, without being any different. I tried to look at my hands and see the wrinkles, I tried to move my feet and feel the warmth of the dying sand. But I was not in the suit anymore, I was me. I found freedom, the very last inch of it. I met a man, I couldn't see his face because there was no light.
I had lost track of time. I wandered around the place for days, without water or food, without anyone to bother me. This was the first living thing I saw back here. I listened to his stories the whole night. I didn't feel tired, I never felt like sleeping, you never need to sleep back here, or eat. I remembered what it was like to feel. The smell of the morning dew, the grass swaying with the wind, touching my skin. I kept listening to his voice for nights, like a lullaby, soothing, caring. I remembered. I saw my first sunrise that day — the green borders of the changing red. I wanted to sleep beside him. I could see his face while I closed my eyes... It was me.