BEDROMM WITH

So I pushed this quest for hope for months. And I was told about the hospital. Or asylum, called it as you see fit. I've always had a penchant for the second. It assimilates like one between fools. And if to look for you the light sounds like madness, then I breathe the most beautiful follies. Because madness is not pejorative. Fools are more likely to live than anyone else. And if that's what I'm happy to be part of. I've been thinking for a long time, you know. But my condition was getting worse by the hour. And I was falling off every day more. I needed to hope. So I agreed. It was so complicated. So complicate to accept it and announce it. I waited for the response of the whole nights, the sleepy nights and the anguish. And the phone to ring. The lacerated ringing of my soul. To shred my heart. That's it. It's all starting. And it's all over. Yes, my bed was close.