Tren de Howth a Dublín / 16:00
Am I awake?
I can say for sure:
In my dreams I live.
But do I live my dreams?
Perhaps.
Though when I'm crushed
into time and place, when I'm
surrounded by bodies
for long lifes and days: I just sleep.
In my dreams, it's different.
In my dreams I don't sleep.
In my dreams my fears and
sorrows turn me on,
and I feel free.
In my life, when I'm awake
there's no sense, no contact
between me and reality.
I'm a ghost. I'm a dream
that walks, and speaks,
and sometimes listens,
though I'm just a dream.
Will my birth take place
before than my death?
Will I exist further
than my mind's jail?
I don't know.
There's nothing I can know.
I don't know my name,
I don't know my number.
I don't know why my...
Why I'm not thankful?
I'm a miracle, I can breathe,
food is my gasoline and
blood is my street.
Therefore, why it's always
cloudy on my sight?
I don't expect a long-way
but I can feel, I can love,
I feel something loves me,
I feel like a dream that is not.
I feel a deep life in
and outside of me.
I suppose I'm real,
but, how can I know?
Do I need to know anything
to dream and to live?
I miss myself.
I miss me so much.
