A room full of wet paint. I went to touch it. A voice in the back of my mind says that I could only make things worse by doing so. The fear paralyzed me, for a moment. I took a breath. A quick pause, to consider.
A permanent mark of my presence. A way to be seen, even after I pass through. A memory that'll linger when I find my way back here once more, a reminder that there was a past and a present in this maze. That what I've done has really happened. My fear blended with the sight of potential. I could make it worse, sure. That nagging in the back of my head said I would. But how? A wall with a fingerprint was something, not like this place now. Someone was here.
Poke. There. I did it. The paint had a smooth texture. Not pleasant, not unpleasant. Just normal ol' paint. Sort of wished I had a place to wipe it off, but that'd surely come in the next couple rooms.
Not better, not worse. Just slightly different. A fingerprint barely noticeable in the paint. Scarcely even a presence unless someone was searching.
Was that really so hard? Did I really have to build that up so much? Say, while I was here, I may as well actually draw something. Leave my mark in a way that wouldn't involve knowing my fingerprint. A visible way. Flowers bloomed within the paint--it was too hard to actually draw specific ones that'd be recognizable, but I drew. Anything that came to mind. Flowers and spiders and ponies--including a pony of a certain Painter friend of mine--ending off on a Homestar Runner that I am surprised I managed to draw as well as I did. It took up a small portion of the wall, the rest as blank as ever. There were other people wandering this endless maze, too. Couldn't take up the whole room!
I stepped back to look at my handiwork. Now it felt better.
As I left, another thought came to me, this time from a source that felt a lot more like myself. Maybe now that it wasn't empty, others might not feel as bad, as much dread. The walls were wet for a reason--I had never encountered any like that before, not even in the newest of the new rooms. I don't know if my conclusion for that reason was correct, but it was fun. More fun than a 'watching paint dry' room. Let this place be a canvas.