I’m sleeping in my world, I want to sleep forever. I want the storm to pass easy, so that I can wake up together with the real sun,with the smell of wakening flowers, trees, and fresh air of this only life.
Have I prescribed to myself the same jail dedicated to times that fulfilled me and kept me away from sorrow?
It’s dark. Days are heavy and the rain is too often. Time is passing by as if they are a dream. I want them to be a dream.
The level of water is higher, I’am not ready for it, I’am not ready for swimming, for staying in the bottom with others.
I’d like to sleep all this years, perhaps she’d like it too? Why nobody is asking her,why nobody cares?
She is not ready for the storm, she does not want the end. I know that, because she seeks for help by her eyes. I'm here. I'm her eyes