Just when you thought that the rains were over and the bright sunny days were back, you find yourself blanketed by dull grey clouds once again. So dull that you strain to keep yours eyes open. So grey that you stop believing in black or white. No matter how hard you try, all you see is a thick layer of fog all the way ahead. Giving you, not even the slightest hint of what awaits you. You strain harder and your eyes start hurting. And then somewhere, between the moment of grief and the moment of optimism, you step into a dark whirlpool of random images. Thoughts, to be precise. And before you even know, you find yourself tumbling across. From one image to another. The past. The present. The future. And then you find yourself frowning when you see the past. With images so clear, that you almost fail to believe that it happened. Because the past never seemed so vivid when it was the present. Or perhaps because you never thought that it would lead you to the future you’re in now. You try opening your eyes in between in an attempt to step out of it, but something sucks you back in. Deeper down and you almost find yourself falling. This time, you’re tickled, poked and rammed amidst a stampede of questions. You find the answer to one, but soon the next one crops up, you solve that and another boos you from behind. Left, right, centre. Madness. Then there’s a lullaby. A musical that drags you even further down. Here you have some others waiting for you. Guilt. Wrath. Possessiveness. All the bad guys. And they host a party. To celebrate your arrival. They know you’ll stay there for long. Maybe for good. You settle down, in a corner. You give in hoping for the fog to clear, the questions to fade and the bad guys to shrink. And then you feel the curves of your lips widen a bit. You cuddle and breathe out a sigh, as you watch a dream tiptoe from the corner of your eye.