The Same

The walls. The walls look exactly the same. The ceiling? The ceiling looks exactly the same too. Even if I try to use my imagination, everything looks exactly the same.

Is this a reality for me, or is this some sick fantasy that my mind is using to toy with me? These questions ponder through my mind, on a never ending freight-train of the cells processing thoughts in my head.

The questions that I ask myself, on a regular basis, seems to be like rocket science. It's just that they're too difficult for my brain to process. Why do I ask myself these questions? Why did I just ask myself that question? Or that one? This is just all just a continuous mind trick that my thought processes.

It seems as though, that my actions are the same. I just tend to my daily activities, which seem to run redundant every day. I wake up, groom myself and ask myself these questions. I use the restroom and go to sleep. I occasionally just lie on the mattress and stare at my ceiling, trying to ponder these questions.

My mind gives me nothing. Absolutely nothing. Are we meant to do the same exact thing? Or are we supposed to do something out of the ordinary? Or are we supposed to do something that mixes a little bit of both? Or are we supposed to do exactly nothing at all?

Maybe it's one of those answers. Then again, it's one of those daily life questions I ask myself.

Here I am, lying on my mattress. Staring at the roof of the ceiling. Staring at the bland color of white. I despise the color white. But I can't change the color. Why is that?

Well, finally, I have an answer to one of my questions. I can't. With all the will of my well-being, I simply can't. Why are the four corners of the room are just white.

Insanity can easily keep a person's mind racing...