What’s like to dream? he asks what is like to dream. Is it when you close your eyes or is it when you are awake? It feels so complicated – the simple process of living in the unconscious world, even just for a moment. All the rest have been doing that for years, more than a moment. There’s no drugs in the world that he can try. He refuses the idea of having visions other than what he sees. So in the reality he lives. What a scary place to be. Somehow he’s comfortable living that way, while others can only imagine how to face the day by day. He feels superior, above all human beings – and dogs, doubtless, they can dream as well. Who would think such a dream? Is there any other person like him? He will never know. He can’t imagine a thing.





Today, she woke up as normal. She served, she pleased, she cried.

Today, she woke up as normal. She served, she pleased, she cried.

Today, she woke up as normal. She served, she pleased, she cried.

Today, she opened her eyes. Not knowing what to do, she smiled.

The Internet


as he unlocked his phone – going through apps in search of something that would kill his boredom – his mind wondered with a non-sense ability to investigate the feelings from within.

[12:46 am]

[internal dialogue]

Fuck, how is it so easy to find a cat playing with a book but so hard to find love in the internet? Obviously, you aren’t as selective finding a cat reference than finding love. What is love anyway, beside a great exercise of self-respect and compassion among others. All this connectivity has been presented to us as a way to understand the world, since we all keep fighting with each other, the ligaments have become pointless. I’m connected all the time. I know what’s happening in Tunisia if I feel the need to know something about Tunisian. The emptiness with all the information is excruciating. You feel powerless in a place you should be faking all your emotions. Maybe that’s why so many people use the internet to scream their inner rage with themselves. At the same time, with all the purpose of its creation, we know more about ourselves than before. It’s kind of scary. And it’s ugly. The world is not a place for tolerance, even though it’s still tolerable. Our guns have changed. We use our harsh words and fiery thoughts to create hate. While mankind scream loveble sounds, the crowd only hear bitter words. Their narcissism is so contagious that if someone is not on their side, they can only proclaim wrongness, the beginning of riots. With age, I become fond of cats, those selfish little pricks that are only concern with their well-being. Honestly, I can relate with their behavior.

[12:47 am]

his mind shut down.