The story I'm going to tell, is not my story.
It is the story of someone, who is telling a story which is very similar to his own.
The dream I will remember, won't be mine.
It's the dream of someone who remembers a dream, that is very similar to his own.
I think of stories I like to make stories.
To tell them. I know this must sound like the dream of little Iasonas. What will he be when he grows up.
When I wake up, it'll happen again.
It'll start all over...
Friday, October 19, 2007
Decomposing
This is the story of a person who didn’t know himself.
He didn’t even know what he was saying and if it was true.
Even if it was, people could easily change his mind
and shortly he was doubting the truth of his words
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