At times I like to pretend that you have just woken up from a long dream which helped you understand everything. It is the only illusion I've been able to manufacture and place by my bed. I don't really dare to go any further.
If my will had been stronger, I know I would have succeeded a long time ago. But by the time I had finished uttering the first sentences you had already removed and denied all meaning. I guess you were, by all means, the greatest link to a more sensible way of living, but it's in that same comfort that I found the most solid of all walls.
I no longer own time. I've learnt to let it lead the way.
Yet I'd love to be allowed to exhale all of the air I've been storing while holding my breath to swim in your treacherous ocean of lies.
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