.PAUSE.
... and you get both your hands under your head, as if another secured lap over your pillow, facing the big white wall, well ceiling you may call it.
You find little cobwebs spiralling over your gaze, spider-babies looking affront with their cute drowny eyes, seeming as if tiny little dots from some unobvious place.
You gaze and gaze and gaze. You see the breaking of your fourth wall, well let's call it ceiling only if you insist. You see the big white wall to be broken into clouds, as if a jet plane's forsaken tail to get scattered in the sky.
You see darkness visible and your tittles glowing as if luminous flux, stars you name it.
Your bed is no thorn or rose, it's grasses all over. You feel your hands getting drowned in their soft hums.
Over wireless words, you hear a voice by your side,
"Listen... you're no longer afraid, are you?..."