your ever struggling limbs shiver in a quintessential way at the perception of the temperature. it's just the right proportion, not cold, nor hot. glistening drops of what it seems to be water keep dappling from a ceiling that resembles that of a forest. you decide to take a nap near a block of humid, mostly rotten wood... the atmosphere, everything is so conveying. comfort envelops your heart. it may be your last. you felt at peace once. eyes closed. nothing else matters.
Favorite track: Liminal Rains II.