Room 22

Why go outside? With so much to fear, with so much horror finely ingrained into the everything outside, why slip from shield you've erected, the wall's so painstakingly fortified? Music for one. Drugs are another. I suppose there are more reasons, better reasons, but they're all as wish-washy and what really does any of that mean, ig you can keep trying since there's nothing better to really do before you're dead. Sex, love, ok choices to exist for, but soon the science will reach the impossible dreams and you'll be able to print hookers from an 3D escort site; you'll download coke straight from the screen and directly into your nostrils. Until then you'll have to be content with the shitty world you've been dealt. So you file away your fear in the emotional/metaphysical file cabinet, in the drawer with the lock, where you keep the kinks you refuse to talk about and the memories you like to pretend are dreams. What is it you fear? People? The Unknown? or the Darkness that you will never escape? Outside there are the endless possibilities of fear, and inside there is the unending fretting that fetters you to what you find soothing, what you found to hush the voices and keep the Darkness from finding you.