Walls contain me. I ask myself " what will become of me, will time take me finally or will I stay alone in this world forever ? ".

Walls keep me imprison. I have gotten through three walls, but never the forth.

The first wall was difficult to climb but led to another one. Each will give me a feeling, of confusion, a feeling that hasn't felt. Almost if the walls were guiding me to something. My hearts beat faster with the feeling the walls give me. I hear every breath I make.

The first wall was warm, the second was cold and the three was humid like a rain mist. Each clear with nothing but that strange feeling of weather. Some of those weather sensations from the wall inspire new worlds that I make.

The walls are at the end of this world. Brick brown walls. So different than anything else in my world. So far away from anything. Whenever I create a new creation, those walls stand out.

Brown bricks that make a wall with green short grass at the bottom. Always the same, no matter what I draw. So far, almost at the end point of the world.I have to walk farther away to reach it. I can't look what's inside the walls, I have to climb each one. When I climb over, I get that unfamiliar feeling. With another wall to climb over.

What do these walls contain from me?