Friday, January 19, 2007

Ears to hear

I use to make a dream very often. To swim in the sky, sucked by the surface of it, as when you struggle to swim underwater. I never fell down at the end, but went higher and higher against my will.

The world isn't a map. It is skin to wear. So the Logos it is no word or painting, no sound and sinphony. But existence.

That's what I think. And the more I say it, the more I lose it.


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