I have pink rose lights strung up in my bedroom, a pink paper cover over my ceiling light, red curtains over my morning-sun windows, a lamp made out of a green glass bottle with a battered red lampshade on it, so the light in my room is rosy and warm and soft however it enters. Two days of lying sick and alone in bed I was so in love with my pink rose fairy-lights strung above. They gave my semi-hallucinations the nicest, softest edges. There is something about choosing to decorate this space all for myself that is self-indulgent in a way I've only recently begun to discover the value and magic of. It's beautiful for me, not for anyone else who might happen to see it. Although I do like to see people smile at this self-indulgence of mine, to enjoy their enjoyment of my folly.