Fading into Agony

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This was written as a challenge to write a 300-350 word story all in a single sentence. 

White, everything was white, and she was lost within it, unable to get free no matter what she did; the stark desolation used to frighten her but now she had grown far too used to its constant presence, and even as she kept pace with her life, she could't shake it - the vehemence with which it contained her was too much even for one so much stronger than she - as things were, she didn't stand a chance, and it had been so long since she could see the world through anything other than her doomed porcelain lens, she had fallen deep into the sway of anhedonia, alone in apathetic agony; rasasvada enveloped her in the rare moments she could escape from the perpetual achromatic emptiness that formed her world, and it was so blissful, such a welcome freedom from her monotonous daily death, that it reignited her ability to dream in color, if only for a fleeting instant, but even so, it was not enough for her, not enough of a break, not enough of a reason to truly feel again, and knowing of this inadequacy shattered her every time it arose, so she determined to live in perpetual dreams; consciousness was no longer for her, as it was too sterile, too virginal, too perfect for her vision, so she chose to flee and design her own freedom, if only it could come soon enough for her, but she had to wait to see one final night's finale, and at the auroral dawning, she breathed a sigh of ecstasy, dreaming of the colors she was soon to see, and she closed her eyes, unable to bear the colorless world that had forced itself upon her for even one more second, yet in the sweven of her most hopeful mind, she lived and breathed in a vividly chromatic world for these last few moments that she could afford; she raised a glass to the golden rays as they crested the horizon, drank deeply of the lifeblood of dreams, and opened her eyes to the evanescence of white, the resurgence of life.

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