He enters the sauna with the voices in his head repeating the same mantra " it's healthy" "it's good for you" and smoke is filling the room and the voices in his head say " it's a sauna it gets hot, there's smoke" and it becomes hard to breathe and the voices in his head say " you're just not used to it" & " it sucks but it will make you more healthy" as large authority like shadows seem to form in the haze And he continues to listen to the voices in his head as the flames lick at the worn wooden slats that were used to the heat of the sauna, and the voices continue to say : it gets hot, that's what saunas do but they are good for you" as he dismisses the quite voice trying to break through the rest, the voice that is his, saying, " this doesn't feel right", because all the other voices are saying it is. and to this day, the voices of the others drown out the little voice in the back trying to tell him he has passed, trapped in a perpetual subservience to everyone's voice but his own, a ghost of a memory of the man he was. I had the picture in my head still from a dream, the ones you have to paint. IT has been finished awhile but it has been cold and I wanted to wait till warmer to varnish. I saw that it was voices in his head and he was so entrapped by listening to everything everyone else said that he couldn't see what was happening to him now, however I never found the right words. They came to me this morning, coincidentally, on a perfect day to varnish.