once you snooze

every time a snooze seduces me, I get an anxiety bruise.

but why?

Is it so bad to sleep and dream away a life or two?

and who says that dreams are less real than “reality”?

 

somebody once told me that the pictures in our caves are mere black shadows from a bonfire.

 

can’t just Georg Samsa leap down from the roof  and tell everybody that it doesn’t matter if one’s existence is just fictional.

it doesn’t matter if the light in ones life is just a reflection - it still enlights.

 

..and if it do get to bright

 

we'll still have our Wayfarers right?


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