I venture through empty crowds day after day and as every object passes, the next seems all the more irrelevant than the last. Colors that I once found in this world have turned grey and the blurs around me fade into mediocrity. The uninhabited streets of interest are that of shame and lost hope, and that grey blur that I so despised has become one with me, and so I become one with nothing, and am turned from a sign of youth into another expressionless face to create blankness in others. Furthermore seeping into the dimness of this distorted world. Change would mean my life. My life would mean nothing to anyone.
Something came to me in my empty stage. Neither a light nor a color, but a beautiful mixture of both. Suddenly I was something again, myself in a new way. The people who once passed me with nothing to say, were no longer merely objects. The foreboding nature of this grim world was turned on its side by you.