I dream a smattering of life all tangled up, twisted and tattered and overlapping, of walking streets I don’t quite remember, of people whose faces I’ve lost, of some meaning behind all the confusion, some purpose fading in the morning, blurred like footprints in snow turned to slushy smudges.
The dream repeated several times then she was surprised that the images appeared during the day. She followed the man with the pink flower down the street, finally reaching a viewpoint but she doesn’t see the view. The dream ends at that point.
Veo algo que es y no es, un mundo dentro de mi, no es materia, solo significado, un espejo roto, o inutil ante tanta complejidad pero en mi ser, un universo.
veo algo que no veo, algo que siento, que entiendo y que no es. Algo que soy yo y que no es nada, algo que es epejo de este mundo, pero solo vive en mi
I dream a smattering of life all tangled up, twisted and tattered and overlapping, of walking streets I don’t quite remember, of people whose faces I’ve lost, of some meaning behind all the confusion, some purpose fading in the morning, blurred like footprints in snow turned to slushy smudges.
The dream repeated several times then she was surprised that the images appeared during the day. She followed the man with the pink flower down the street, finally reaching a viewpoint but she doesn’t see the view. The dream ends at that point.
Veo algo que es y no es, un mundo dentro de mi, no es materia, solo significado, un espejo roto, o inutil ante tanta complejidad pero en mi ser, un universo.
veo algo que no veo, algo que siento, que entiendo y que no es. Algo que soy yo y que no es nada, algo que es epejo de este mundo, pero solo vive en mi