Today, as I quietly reflect on those moments when my consciousness was clouded by a whirlwind of thoughts that enveloped my mind in delusion and an unshakable belief in a predetermined future, I was slowly dying every day. In that moment, when I looked into your eyes and saw your soul, I drew bold plans, rosy worlds, and magical horizons, soaring alongside you—because I met you and recognized you in the crowd at first glance. Your eyes, your smile, your embrace—it was as if our very breaths had known each other for centuries, yet the idea that all the right things come at the right time actually turned out to be a poor prediction. For what would the “right time” even be, if the right things happened as they should, regardless of the time?
To this day, this hypothesis creeps like a snake at my feet, climbs up my thighs, wraps itself around my stomach, and rises into my consciousness through my lungs. But when I look deep inside myself, I see no one but the traces of his fleeting presence.
Even though I knew the consequences, it was already too late to resist, because the poison was coursing through my veins and driving my mind into delirium. Where did that damned snake come from? To bite me so viciously that my day would fall apart and my dreams for the future would crumble like dominoes. To live in two separate worlds with two opposing truths for so long—between what could have been and what is, between who you really are and who you need to be to heal the pain of my body, which is falling apart from the poison.
And just before I fell ill with grief forever and died in this absurd way, muffled thoughts swept over me, acting quickly as an antidote.
“Can you hear the wind rustling the leaves in the tree branches? Can you feel the fine raindrops falling from the clouds on your face? Can you see what color the sky is?” That means you’re still alive. And you’ll die, and you’ll live, and you’ll die again. Until you merge the two truths into one. Until time collapses.
If you can’t hear them, it means you’re no longer in this world, and what you exist in is simply a dream in which everyone is forced to experience fear, loneliness, and the limitations of their consciousness. To wander through the dark depths of despair and the weight of time. In the cage of an unborn and unspoken love, sinking into infinity. Leaving behind a multitude of unanswered questions and open wounds.
I, however, no longer feel pain, and for me, time and space no longer exist, because I am your dreams—a surreal escape from this trap in which you and I found ourselves, yet could not meet. Namely, to meet under the full moon, where our dreams intertwine in endless sweetness.
I am the concentrated love in your soul that whispers to you: “Stand up so you can fly.”
