He was in his familiar place: the desk with his laptop in front to him and a white wall behind the laptop. A white wall that he watched every day.

He had sat down on his chair right after he woke up today. He needed to get things done. Now, who knew how many hours had passed working. He had not even had his breakfast yet and it was already afternoon.

He raised his head in boredom and tiredness and looked at the wall. It was the same old wall that always was but he liked watching it for a short time when he was working.

But today could not take his eyes off of it. His mind insisted on watching it. Now, who knew how many minutes had passed watching. He felt stuck, unable to move. His mind did not give up. What was going on?

He sat there watching the wall for what seemed like hours. Hours in which he felt his inability to command his mind. Hours in which he felt his inside going from desperate to lost. Hours at the end of which he would yield to his mind.

Towards the end of these hours, he saw himself on the wall. Now, his mind was playing theater for him, it seemed.

Him on the wall was crying and shouting desperately. He wanted to reach out to him and calm him down but alas, now he could not move at all.

What was him in the wall saying? He listened carefully.

He could only hear one sentence out of many:

‘Was it worth it, torturing me like that?’

The him on the wall disappeared after he heard this sentence. His mind had finally made itself heard after years of silence. It had kept everything together so he could do his work. But now it had reached its limit. It needed to get it out.

As he was finally able to get up and walk, he was thinking:

‘Was it really worth it, torturing it like that?’