Πεφτω παλι.
Μη αναστρεψιμο λαθος.
Ξεχασε το. Δεν υπαρχει.
Χανω τις μνημες μου.
Δημιουργω καινουριες, απο τις εικονες.
Πλαστες μνημες.
A stranger passed by me.
He stole a memory
and a thought.
That of you.

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...