• Here I am in this lonely red room. There are no doors to this room, nor are there windows. The ceiling is completely clear and I can see the stars above. This makes it impossible to get out of this red room. There is a small red coffee table, big enough for one. A cozy red chair with the texture that of soft linen, that would never be shared with anyone. A small twin size bed which is also red, the sheets smell most intriguingly enough of lavender and have a soft silky feel to them. I do not remember ever sleeping on the twin sized sleeping apparatus. There is a small red refrigerator that never seems to run out of supplies, usually fresh bananas, and a sandwich or two. All that needs to be done is close the door and bring it ajar, allowing the fridge to be filled again.

    How did I get here? Who am I? This red room that I've known all my life, yet... I've never quite known it. Perplexing as the stars above me twisting and turning in an infinite loop of living light. The red room however, never changes. It never gets dirty, or ever does it look lived in. Even the shadows that watch from each corner in the room seem lonely. I just remember a voice. A subtle voice, hidden within mystery. The voice was static, but it was soothing.

    The soothing voice would mull over my mind making me relax, and in a somber state, never on edge. The static voice which sounded that from a radio, I could hear forever. Always wanting to hear it. There was always something new being broadcasted. Always something so interesting. Are there other things out there? Other people? Perhaps I am all alone and this voice that comes from the reaches of darkness in the corners of my room, reach out to me from a place even closer. My own mind creating a voice, to quench my ever growing thirst for companionship.

    Or am I alone in this vast unknown universe that I cannot seem to escape. The red room much like a prison lacking any guards or other beings. A prison that there is no reason or logic behind why I am here. This red room... this... Red room... A testament of all things unnatural, but at the same time natural. The feeling of all the elements surrounding me in a flurry of idioms that don't make any sense. Perhaps it's the fact that I am closer to the elements that which surround my small box like, yet comfortable, prison, that I can relate to them better than people. People who I have not yet met, but only presume exist out of the innumerable odds that exist in our own space.

    I reach up, far beyond the darkness that holds the stars. I often imagine there are more like me. Sitting in their own rooms, just clinging on to hope and thought that maybe, there is more to just this room and the voice that sounds like it's coming from a radio. Maybe, just maybe, we are more than who we are. And mayhaps they are all thinking the exact same thing, while sitting in their generally hued rooms, with unlimited supplies for eating, and their less lived in looking spaces, staring up at the same stars, we all are listening to the same voice over the radio that is broadcasted at what seems like unending dialog. Listening to what the world outside is like.

    I cling to the thought that one day, I will know what the sun will feel like on my skin. What daylight looks like, and find an escape from this endless night with the taunting stars flying over head. But until then, I think of you, my friend whom I've never met. The friend, that will exist in my mind even if not in reality. You maintain my sanity, if only barely.