Nicht blau, ehrlich.

Every morning I put it on. I walk outside and I am gone. And I don't seem to mind anymore. I can't think what it was like before I wore it all the time. In the evening I take it off. But there's another one underneath. And I can't seem to find the bottom of the stack. I might just lose my mind and never get it back, but at least I'll get inside. There's a feeling that I get sometimes. It's so small that it's easy to hide. It's like a howling voice from the distant past. It seems I have no choice when it comes to this. It's building up inside.

PERSONA