once time just runs out, the silence becomes too much, and the question is always the same, to the answer to which is certain, unchanging, and most of all unfulfilling. And dreams to you don’t remember in the afternoon, you just sort of feel them, and when you’re feeling your dream and trying to find what it is, what you’re feeling, sometimes, in lucky moments, the dream is there again for a little while. And dreams you don’t remember in the afternoon, you just sort of feel them, and when you’re feeling your dream and trying to find what it is, what you’re feeling, sometimes, in lucky moments, the dream is there again for a little while.
impenetrable, but familiar. then evening, evening again, then night and you want that dream to be under you when you fall, to sink into, not break. the time is like that, just mood, let the night, maybe it wants to live inside you.
just in my dreams…