*Stabs the round middle button with left thumb.*
(Hurry down Bailey's, so that i can speak freely...)
I'm amazed: everything around me is neat. I might as well be there for real. But where is 'there' exactly?
I'm in a forest, a very dark one. The soil under my feet is damp, i slide on the dead leaves and dive slowly into the mud with each step. The silence around is thick, almost tangible. I find myself in front of four large steps of stone, leading to another path: it looks easier to walk up there, so i climb the high steps and enter a part of the forest where the trees seem to tower higher, though more distant from one another. The soil is still very slippery, i try hard not to but i eventually fall. I'm so exhausted that i decide to stay on the ground, my hands are coverd in mud, leaves are sticking to my knees and elbows. I give up. I'm crying uncontrollably and would like to think about nice and brighter things, but i seem to be unable to do so. All my senses are awake, i'm very tense and while i'm trying to cheer up, two very soft arms seem to fold around my shoulders. I don't know whether i ought to be afraid of them, whether i should resist or let myself go to their grip. I wait.
It might be hours later, or only a few seconds, i feel trust the way i've never felt it before: not the one that is usually linked to self-confidence, but the unquestionable trust one can feel when aware that nothing worse could possibly happen. I trust these arms. Suddenly, two hands slip under my own shaking arms and i know i have to let them take the full control of my weak body. They lift me up back to my unsteady feet and something like a rush of air pushes me in the back. I'm running now, ignoring my tired feet, my sore knees, i can barely see where i'm going: my eyes are so filled with tears that all i can see are more and more patches of distorted light. I'm running like a lunatic or so i believe, when i come to realize that i am no longer treading on the ground: i seem to have been lifted above it and my feet don't even touch it most of the time, though i'm still running.
I don't like being carried, so i make myself as heavy as possible: the threat of the trees above is too frightening and i know that if i rise to high above the ground i will hit them and fall back. Somehow, my thoughts seem to have escaped from my head, because i see the trees disappear one by one. I have no more excuse to stay on the firm ground: i now am in a large field, misty and foggy, but luminous as the surface of the Moon. If i wanted to fly now, i could but the hands have disappeared and i'm running alone. The only way is to disconnect my brain from any practical thoughts, then maybe i will be able to fly for good.
I don't care where i put my feet, i don't even notice the ground. I don't mind the icy cold. All my thoughts are located somewhere between that cloud, right in front of me and the deep bottom of my heart. Maybe if i follow the thread linking them?
I feel free here, safely hidden in the fog, scattered amongst the tiny drops of mist. Not a soul can see me, i won't look ridiculous if i attempt to fly and fall. An everything around me looks unrealistic, and in the same time more than reality itself... I look once more up at the cloud: faces i like, love and adore are hidden there, faces i know i shall loose forever if i don't reach them in time.
The edge of the cliff: now is the time. I grab the imaginary thread and keep running, increase speed and jump.
I'm high enough now to ignore whether the air shaking my hair is there because of the speed of my flight, or bcause i'm simply falling fast.
I don't care: i surrender again, happily this time, i could die there in the middle of the clouds, alone amongst those faces i adore. Alone. But am i?
*A shaking right index pushes the middle button once more*