There are times in my life when I clam shut. I absorb all colors, hear everything, see everything, feel everything. I am normal, except that I don't let out anything. I feel closest to a broody owl, closed from without, pitch black as black is. There are places in me that are too deep and down under. It never augurs well to live in those places for long. Sometimes I do. Not that I like it, but I do. There are times when I need to disconnect so that I can make more sense of things around me. And then it becomes a habit. And until a loved one calls out loud or breaks my reverie without a shattering knock, there are chances that the dark rooms that fill my life will trap me into a perpetual maze. Imagine forever moving through doors and windows. Imagine feeling that you are always on the move, except that you never cover any real distances. The bridges across hearts rot out of disuse. All the loved ones have left too soon. Those who remain, are as confused.