AMIDST THE confusion he manages to find a door to close, securing him in a quiet, empty space.
But this is who I am, he thinks, and why can't you accept that, why can't you leave it as it is?
Is this who I am? He rubs his eyes tiredly. The voice is too quiet to be heard, but it is persistent, and will make itself heard one day. Why am I so afraid to find out? it asks. In his deepest heart, he is afraid there is nothing worth finding.
One day I will understand, he thinks, gathering the things he was sent to gather. All good things come to those who wait. He does not want to contemplate why it sounds more defeatist than viva la vida.
It's okay. It will be okay.
Des'ree - you gotta be