বেড়ালরমণী, দ্বিতীয় বার।

"I'll play some music", I say, to no one. 

Whip out some Bach. 

I feel relaxedly disturbed. Beautiful. 

There is a hotel somewhere out there. 

Floor to ceiling windows. Valet. Lunch. Wifi.

I'd go there. 

Blue flowers, wild shrubs, trees. 

They have nothing to offer me anymore. 

I've started painting my own life. 

In my own colors. 

No other colors make any sense. 

This, then, is my Nirvana, written in cyberpunk.