I was doodeling with my ink and that just came out. The bell came at the end. And then I felt like it was Esther Greenwood from Sylvia Plath's The bell jarr.
Just in her bell not knowing at all how to come out from that prison that trapped her for years.
The bell jarr is one of my favourite books. Or maybe not one of my favourites, but one of the most touching ever. Maybe I felt like her at one time...