Artistic Freedom

For three years I have not left my room. I gave up, disconnecting myself from the world today which I cannot connect to, only dreaming of worlds for tomorrow. Confounded to the barren corners of the sterile box I have been exiled to that I call my room. I do leave my accommodations occasionally solely to purchase hygienic commodities, but it is bothersome and I choose to occasionally smell bad then venture outside. Resting in my bed confined agonizing for the days which lie ahead. I have one thought that brings me happiness. CHICAGO!!! CHICAGO!!! CHICAGO!!! A word like a Buddha mantra I keep saying over and over again. I did not choose these constructs for myself. I also can’t blame anyone but myself. Sitting here in my square confinements, I dream. These dreams make my room a bit larger. Brings bright blue colors bursting onto the dull white walls. As long as I am imprisoned. I will have my dream. Until the day I will actually have my dream, Chicago