the cave

I live in a cave. I call it my mind. I look out from here and I see things: strange things, both horrible and wonderful, but also a lot of nothing. I venture out from time to time, but almost always run screaming back to my cave in fear. My cave is dark, and cramped, and full of useless things I should have discarded long ago, but the world is full of danger and violence, both intentional and accidental. It may be wrong to stay in my cave, but here, at least, I know what prowls and waits for me.