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THE LOOP
Blue seeps into my dreams, and time and again I sink into the same waters.
The water reaches my ankles, the television crackles with static, and I am pinned in place, watching myself slowly sink to the bottom.
Some say blue signifies melancholy, yet it feels more like a transparent shield. Enveloped within a bubble, I block out the noise—and all genuine human connection.
The world distorts within my pupils; my fingertips lightly touch the surface, sending ripples outward. I stand perpetually on the edge of reality, unable to blend in, yet unable to break free.
Flooded rooms, floating debris, sharp yet blurred vision—all mirror our inner selves. We inhabit our own worlds, dreaming with open eyes, guarding a solitude others cannot comprehend.
Perhaps true freedom lies not in shattering the bubble, but in learning to breathe within it.