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Act I / Euphoria, Season I. Episode I ━━━━━━ VIII. Green and Red Lights.
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How curious that I'm unable to say who I am. That is to say, I know perfectly well, but I cannot bring myself to say it.
Most of all, I'm afraid of saying it, because the moment I try to speak, not only do I fail to express what I feel, but what I feel slowly transforms itself into what I am saying. Or at least, what makes me act is not what I feel but what I say.
I feel who I am and the impression is lodged in the upper part of my brain, on my lips—especially on my tongue on the surface of my arms and is also coursing inside me, deep down inside my body, but where, precisely where, I cannot say.
The taste is grey, faintly tinged with red, touches of blue on the worn parts, and it moves slowly like gelatine.
Sometimes it becomes sharp and wounds me, colliding with me.
