I look around my home and the walls and ceiling are a deep black. In some areas this black is more or less faded, though these are simply natural fluctuations. If you look around, you will surely see some areas so faded they almost seem white; heck some areas fully ARE white. I don't like those. They stand out too much and are ugly stains upon my otherwise dark walls. I have attempted to erase them but they keep showing up somehow. Still, I do sometimes think it might be nicer to help the light-grey areas along and let them spread, perhaps it would be nicer. Thus, I try and try to darken the white spots. I have thrown water at them so much, yet when I do so they only briefly hold the shade I prefer, before growing darker like the rest. At least it's not the pure white that blinds me. Occasionally, not as often as I may wish for sometimes, I have a visitor or two. They come from their houses into mine and every time, they must judge my home. How dare they? How dare they enter my home and judge for it is not as they think it should be. This is the reason I am growing distant, they push and PUSH, trying to force me out of my home and trying to change the way I decorate my home. Why can they not understand that this is my choice? After all, many of them have all their own decorations and coloured walls. One of them has THEIR walls black, yet I cannot do the same? They beg me to understand my paint is wrong, or corrupt, even. They claim it isn't even paint. I know what it is; it colours my walls and is spread with water; paint. They have their own water-based paint. They even claim it wasn't always like that, but I know it was. I have been here all my life, I know this more than them. It is just a light coat either way, though some claim the paint is seeping right through the bricks and foundations. The one thing I can agree on at times is some particularly concerning spots, areas much darker, deeper than any other black in my home, who seem to darken everything around them. I have scrubbed out some before, yet they keep returning. I've given them random letters as names. A.H. was a big one in the past, gone now though. Some more have shown up, named D.T. and N.F. Apparently they are massive dangers to me and the home. I do not like or want them but calling them a danger is too extreme. It is why they must leave eventually, also as they come in and immediately complain about it being so hard to breathe. Do they not realise that this is just how life is? Difficulties with breathing is an unfortunate fact of life, though I know that the light-grey spots will help with this. The best way to live is with just a little bit of mould.