I woke up again in the middle of the night. It was that nightmare again. I couldn't remember it but every time I wake up at midnight I get the feeling it is because of the same dream. And all I can see in my room with the lights out is that painting... That place...

Maxwell was sick of being gaslit all the time by everyone around him. Everyone pretended that the sky was blue and the grass was green, when in reality the sky was pitch black filled with the smoke and toxins of multiple deregulated train crashes and the grass was dead.