It´s a mad world

I walk out and the sky is clear for the first time in years. It feels slightly wrong, but I allow myself to enjoy the sun. I can finally see colors, and they are almost overwhelming for my once blind eyes. I'm in love with them. I hear whispers and singing voices and a soft hum coming with the wind. I welcome the wind. It's like the world is telling me everything that I missed when I was trapped in my cave. "This is a flower", it says. "It blooms every spring, and it is beautiful." I look at the flower. It is gorgeous, and I wish I could comprehend why. "It is beautiful now. But it will wither, and the petals will fall.", I mumble. I remember looking at myself in the bathroom mirror and seeing my eyes wither. "Yes, it will", the clouds hum. "But it will grow again next spring. It will not be the same, of course. They are never the same. But you will love it nonetheless." I desperately hope so. The world tells me about