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...
Thursday, February 03, 2011
Delicate crime #1
The play, scene after scene,
strips itself.
Everything becomes a frenzy of ins
and outs for the impersonation.
The actors do suffer,
but the audience suffers even more.
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