The words, acid scratches of blood. The glittering secrets inside the stones.
When I woke up, I was certain: Like sitting on the palm of your hand watching your uvula break the horizon. Now my visions drift off at a tangent along the fierce, fierce light of the keyboard. The spaces of words are undoubtedly what is most important. Someone unfolds my thoughts and turns them into a bright future. In the evening, the light seemed to move closer to my skin and there is a happiness flickering in front of my eyes.