I suppose there is a place beyond this labyrinth of rooms, a place of the “living”. I assume the ephemeral sounds I sometimes hear, the flashes of images that I sometimes see, the short-living smells that wave through this room come from that place beyond the labyrinth. The labyrinth grabbed me, there was no way of saying it couldn’t grab other smells and sights from the place of living. These “senses” are cursed to roam throughout the endless corridors with no meaning, in a place where their purpose of being perceived is impossible. In a place where there is no one but me to perceive them. But, every once in a while they collide with me, my brain sees those smells and sights, and for a second, I have a feeling that the labyrinth, just like how it took the “senses”, took me from a place of “living”. If only I could remember what that place was. If only the Darkness didn’t take it from me.  

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