It is the quintessence of monotony: a mountain chain of aggrandise that lies atop f aloneow lots the size of kitchen magnets. Welcome to suburbia. I effortlessly enter my pervious pastel palace, notwithstanding the spark to my room is an uphill battle; it is quite an insurmountable quest. The journeying to my cell consists of a frozen spiral staircase. It is not unconditional and slippery, though, but rocky and perilous. The portal lies beyond the staircase... Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â I wad my fashion by dint of the abrasive forcefield of forbiddance. The shrieks of my tearing flesh argon repress by the overpowering silence of the room. Words ar mouthed, but not spoken. They do not exist. This cubicle of discombobulate does not allow language, the embodiment of opposition. As I note into my room, I notice all colors of the spectrum for a reckon of a second, then they appear red. Countless pictures adorn the walls; they atomic number 18 all of one person. I know her, but who is she? Her eyeball are dark and enigmatic. I can see the sorrow in her eyes. Her eyes. They lack the luminescence of the youthful character they portray. Her glances penetrate through my being equivalent light through glass. The rug is a sea of scorn. It stabs my feet with its blades of contempt.
The walls of mockery laugh at me as I foolishly try to climb them to rid myself of its presence. thus far there is no escape. I have inflicted more botheration upon myself. zero is soft in here; everything is jagged. My un-sanded wooden dressing table rests on the right side of the doorway. Figures of dancers with invisible partners lie atop the jagg y surface. They seem to move slowly across! the dresser, like seaweed drift aimlessly across the sea. My unpleasant and discomforting bed of... If you penury to communicate a full essay, order it on our website:
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