Some people seem to have a very weak and ineffective sense of smell, for they can bear wearing odours of unimaginable sweetness or too great of an amount of normal ones. It is not alluring nor attractive in any possible way, dear people of undeveloped sensing powers... It is revolting, hideous and it is killing me. (literally and not literally, as in funny, as well.) Oh but what poor humor it is... I can hardly breathe in the vicinity of such fruit party. Who had thought dying in a garden of roses could be so unromantic...
Every person must have a place where he or she feels safest, most protected, most confident.
A cocoon, a warm place where you can hide and be sure that no one can inflict harm upon you, even if it is so only in your mind. It might be a room.. your bed - everybody feels safe and cozy in their bed, do they not? I regard darkness as my recourse, my asylum and I am certainly not the only one to do so. Not even darkness... dim light is just fine. Oh, how I love how the shadows play with my lineaments, how I meld right in, how I can glide so serenely within - my sanctuary.
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