What we do when we are not surviving I saw a documentary in which empty rooms with white walls were displayed to see people's reactions. And almost everyone said that there should be furniture or wallpaper. Hence my reflection that if they want them for pleasure or because they need them. This can drive a sane person insane. Because everything from waking up, washing your face, washing yourself, eating, having sex, to everyday social interactions, is done automatically. Or with one purpose, which is to survive. One glance or distraction and you run the risk of screwing everything up. In the Netflix series Motor Car (in my opinion the best series ever made) Stranger Things. In the episode Dear Billy Max is cursed for being depressed, and vulnerable to Vecna because of it. Vecna takes her to the Upside Down world to kill her. __ in the end you all want this. The end of suffering, no more games, pain, fear, affliction.

I cut out a passage from the series that I think is important to describe what I want to portray. 

[Why do you cry for them, Eleven? After everything they've done to you? Hmm? You think you need them, but you don't. You don't. Oh, but I know you're just scared. I was scared once too. I know what it's like to be different. To be alone in this world. Like you, I didn't fit in with the other kids. Something was wrong with me. All the teachers and doctors said I was... "Broken," they said. My parents thought a change of scenery, a fresh start in Hawkins, would cure me. It was absurd. As if the world were different here. But then...and to my surprise, our new home brought a discovery. And a new sense of purpose. I found a nest of black widow spiders living inside a vent. Most people fear spiders. They hate them. And yet, I found them endlessly fascinating. More than that, I found great comfort in them. A kinship. Like me, they are solitary creatures. And deeply misunderstood. They are the gods of our world. The ultimate predators of all. They immobilize and feed on the weak, bringing balance and order to an unstable ecosystem. But the human world was disrupting that harmony. You see, humans are a unique kind of pest, multiplying and poisoning our world while imposing a structure of their own. A deeply unnatural structure. Where others saw order, I saw a straitjacket. A cruel, oppressive world dictated by made-up rules. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades. Each life a faded, inferior copy of the last. Waking, eating, working, sleeping, reproducing, and dying. They are all just waiting. Waiting for it all to end. All while acting out a ridiculous, terrible play, day after day. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t close my mind and indulge in the madness. I couldn’t pretend. And I realized I didn’t have to. I could make my own rules. I could restore balance to a broken world. A predator... but for good. As I practiced, I realized I could do more than I ever imagined. I could reach others, their minds, their memories. I became an explorer. I saw my parents as they really were. To the world, they presented themselves as good, normal people. But, like everything else in this world, it was all a lie. A terrible lie. They had done things, Eleven. Horrible things. I showed them who they really were. ]