Because the meaning behind my reason for dragging myself into the apparently practiced-by-all faking hysteria is fading away from a distinct rainbow to a distorted assembly of clouds, I realize it's time I let the green reflect back the light I can't seem to absorb or should I say not meant to absorb. Hither-thither a few emotions take to their heels and swing back and forth with the empty whispers, away from the boundaries I set and back to my door; and I now let them be refugees. That which I cannot control, I cannot take responsibility for too. Peek-a-boo - a shadow tries to scare the secret out of me and I choose not to chase after it but to turn off the light. My territory - can I not define it every once-in-a-while, regardless of how it might, instead, worsen the vicinity that holds me up?
And as you pack gift/s for me again, don't forget to STRANGLE it with ribbons of your favorite color.