Living in a place inside of your mind, a place from long ago. You’re at the junction of where you could have been miserable for perpetuity, or change your circumstances.
Here at the place where you always return.
This is a very special place to me, it’s where I first was on my own. It was a very disorienting time, in many ways, and there’s a lingering residue of terrible loneliness on those memories.
Eyes truly are a window to the soul, and I have no curtains. It seems as though I feel things more strongly than is natural, and some emotions tend to spill over the edges. The flowers, chrysanthemums, are what can be seen of the inner feelings, dreams, and turmoils. She’s consumed by her emotions, and surely has roots from her soles.