streaks of light come through the window and i'm not sure why they chose to be here. if i was light i would frolic where the colours are waiting for me to stroke them alive. these streaks of light coming through the window are only heating my depression and i'm not sure i could get any more uncomfortable. i want to ask them, what is your purpose? are they in fact tiny particles on a class trip, highlighting the human condition and lightly laughing at the words: fetal position. streaks of light come through the window and i don't have the will power to roll over to the other side of the bed where your shadow lies.