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When you close your eyes, your world is not void.
It is in flashes of red, of gold, of scandalously bright pinks, flickering like stars on the backdrop of a bruised black.
You can stand in the budding light of a winter dawn, the chilly morning breeze whipping around you, and shades of pastel pinks and oranges bloom into being.
In the punishing glare of a mid-day sun, your world is a flaring red: it soaks you in delicious warmth, drowning you in an ocean of scarlet.
When the night shifts from dusk to twilight, the wilting glare of the fading sun shines a queer royal blue, embroidered with strands of sea-silver.
When you close your eyes, your world is magic.
The world outside is harsh, full of dull greys and insipid whites. But it doesn’t have to be so. The world beneath your eyelids is beautiful, and it’s yours.
So you don’t doubt, you don’t question.
You believe. Ignorance is key.
This place you see, of laughter and joy, of everlasting beauty and frivolous magic, is real. It has to be.
Because when you can’t trust yourself, what is there to live for?
You turn a blind eye, let yourself get caught up in the charade you create.
The truth is right before you, they say, but they’ll never understand.
You do not want to see. You do not want to know. You don’t ask. You don’t doubt.
You close your eyes, and believe.