Maybe its Room 101

"Owwww" is my exclamation waking up here.  But where is here not only is my eyesight vignetted by grey clouds but through the visual pin pricks that are almost in focus all I can see white, looking around is white and more white.

I am in a white room with no visual means for me to enter or exit but I can still breathe.  Is this the rabbit hole that Carrol so wunderfully wrote about, am I really going to hit the bottom hard and be faced with the ultimate choice to Drink me or Eat me.   Mmmm food, maybe that is it, my blood sugar is low and I just need a good meal in my stomach.

After thinking that I am stood still I decide that I am not falling but stuck in a white room, or is it a fetal state and I am really awaiting birth, No can't be that I have memories I remember my mother, sitting by her bed for days in a hospice, my brother no longer riding his motor bike.  OK I must be dead too, if this is death then I am a little disappointed there are no pearly gates, St Peter is a figment of every ones overactive religious beliefs.  But what if I am not dead and this is what is the result of the large amount of drugs I haven't taken and I am being given the ability to have a pre look so I don't do it.

Maybe if I look around a little more I can find a solution in not what is here but in what should be here.  If this is my imagination then I need to imagine myself some sand and surf, wet suit clad women walking boards into the sea.  If I close my eyes and reopen them will they suddenly appear and all will be well?  Nope still white and still cloudy.  I will have to work on my imagination it has to be better than this, oOOo what was that it felt like something long is moving around the floor, can't see any rubbish so that rules out jumping into the trash compactor with Chewbacca and the others on the Deathstar but on closer inspection I see no Cinnamon rolls.

Aha finally, a table, a white table with something on it, it is a white model of a white high rise building.  A man leaning over a balcony on the 20th floor holding both cheeks in obvious horror and a baby crying lying on the ground directly below him, a woman goes up to the baby and picks it up and gives it a big cuddle.  It is obvious to all that the baby has fallen and is OK, but how?.  A sigh of relief emitted itself from me, it is a model can't be real as this must be a dream.  If I wake up and Paul Mckenna is stood over me with an audience full of clucking chickens I will probably not be so surprised and I hope I am holding a hangmans noose and some sealing wax.