The white wall

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“You are not of this world!” the mother exclaimed after what had happened today. Psyche again plunged into a soul blizzard and felt all the suffering that brings her everything what is outside of her consciousness. She closed the door of her room and decided to enter the dream world as soon as possible. Her room was simple and bright, with white walls that gave no hint of heroes or idols in her life. And to make it easier to sleep, she always opened the window.

Purity. Freshness. Simplicity. That's all she accepted and loved. But, unfortunately, all her efforts to bring a little piece of light to this world were not always crowned with success. It is not inherent in her to pass from one state of mind to another in the blink of an eye. She believed that such a quality in a person as flexibility, especially in such cases, is equivalent to such qualities as hypocrisy and spinelessness.

She couldn't sleep, and as usual, she was thinking and reflexing for a long time. And it seemed to her that everything was ephemeral, except for her eternal reflections, which brought her both the slightest notes of self-knowledge and a flurry of mental agony. And as always, she remembered the most vivid moments of the past day. Namely, the same poor dialogue with the successor of the mundane and consumer world, where people worship their animal instincts and limit themselves to pieces of the template mosaic that they call "life".

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