DizzieDee

Clogs and cogs. Turning, swirling, ticking. That ticking, that constant clicking. My mind, my delicate and peaceful mind, victimised by that constant clatter. It sodomises my brain like water torture, I'm drowning in the racket and there's nothing I can do. Brown, bronze, copper and gold, those bland mind numbing colours. They haunt me, they stalk me. Gold, once a special colour, now mass printed on any material. Tiny gold clogs attached by strings of thin thread, no real use, only aesthetical desires. My world crashes down around me, consumed by a bogus reality. I am now restricted to insipid brown shades. I want to break free. C