slicing memories into small pieces with a not sharp knife in my dream last night. it’s the same dream i’ve had dozens of times. it’s not day or night in these dreams. it’s kinda half-night. the atmosphere is gloomy. i’m scared like i can’t tell. i get even more frightened when i see how i slaughter memories of mine with people in my dream without any slightest sense of compassion. couldn’t stop myself though. keep doing it. but it never ends. there is always something left behing, something not being ruined by my hands. at some point, a sense of enjoyment shakes me. then i see there’s nothing left, nothing is standing in front of me. all is dead. the lives are taken. everything is over. a song is echoing, whose melody and lyrics are forgotten. still, i remember it. i loved it once upon a time. listening to it. making small manoeuveres with my head to see my success/failure. music is echoing still. nothing is moving around me. looking at my hand for a while. a sticky-stinky black liquid covering my hands. shape of my hands are not even recognizable. yet i know they are still there and belong to me. black liquid is not standing still. it’s like vibrating. how comes? i’m not hallucinating. i’m still where i have been always. nothing has changed. me and others/memories are remaining the same. the light is the same. however, i don’t see any reason for strange movements of liquid on my hands. it looks like alive. i’m mesmerised. my eyes are getting bigger and bigger. gazing at it. it’s vibrating, moving, growing… don’t feel my hands even arms anymore. liquid is moving upwards. i don’t see it but i know it’s now covering my shoulders and moving onto my chest. all is happening under my shirt…and the picture is frozen. nothing is moving anymore. don’t sense anything at all. knowing that i’m still in a dream though…



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