White flowers

I need a place to order what I experienced . A distant place where no one ever dares to arrive and I can storage everything I don't want to feel or to be known. A remote area to scream what I haven't said so that no one can ever hear. A place with bars to lock up my sufferings and sentence them to life imprisonment so that they can never leave. A place with a pool, or better, by the sea, to drown selfishness and misunderstandings. But above all, a place with a garden. Yes, a fertile ground to grow dreams. And when spring comes they come in white flowers ... to choose the colors with which I want to paint them. Oops! I forgot that we are in crisis, and banks no longer give credit for those things ...