They merge into themselves, as if dissolving into the sky, and then they scatter aside, beautifully parting sideways, opening up a narrow office through which i can see clear blue. The evening air is only damp, only, only.

Smoke curling up in various haunting shapes, wriggling with its own pieces before fading away, and with that my hopes also plunge down, i give into the possibility of what i saw earlier, that this is a dream and I only wanna wake up.

You think its gonna swallow you, rather, you think you'll take pride in the image of your self, in your reflection, but I have to go back once again to a thing i heard recently, but that was said long long ago.

Imagine a room. No windows, no doors. Grey, drab and sad. And there's music somewhere. Are you free? Am I free?

Sweet smell of incense suddenly takes my breath away, i am shamed, i leap a mile away from those rank earlier smells of the day. How infantile is my imagination, how frail my perception of myself, only that harrowed creature that stares back at me from the surface of clear glass, nothing else, not even a mystery.

An old song rings hollow through my ears now, it is night time, the doors and windows are all shut, the earth is bereft of all noise but the hollow dull ringing of loneliness.