More shades

I am faceless, afraid to smile. This place is a confession of my awareness, and the walls around me hold no meaning other than the limits of my movement. I spin around myself, delving into my depths, summoning the furthest reaches of my past, searching for the child I once was, yearning with a profound longing for those moments of pure excitement. Between a wall, and as long as the ceiling remains standing, it receives nothing worthy of the four-fold pleas. Everything remains as it is, and will endure tomorrow as well. Including the faucet, stained with new spots devoured by rust, which later turned green. I fear it will burst and flood the place, that I will die knowing before anyone else about the nothingness that occurs here. Perhaps the silent drowning of a human being is not even mentioned among the emergencies of opening doors. I am faceless, hesitant to smile. This place fails to understand my essence, and the walls surrounding me serve only as constraints on my movement. I spin around myself, delving into the depths of my soul, uncovering my earliest memories, and searching within myself for the child I once was. My longing for those first moments of wonder burns intensely within me. Beyond these walls, the world seems to spin in a vortex of wars, conflicts, peace agreements, and reconstruction, but all of it remains beyond my sight. Within these four walls, as long as the ceiling remains, nothing of significance seems likely to unfold. The status quo persists, and tomorrow promises more of the same. Every now and then, the faucet's color changes, revealing new, corroded stains of rust, sometimes even taking on a greenish hue. I dread the thought of it bursting and flooding this place. I dread fading into oblivion, quietly submerged in the gates of life's hurried pace, an unnoticed human presence amidst the maelstrom of emergency.