...and puzzle pieces. About a production that never came to be, a hotel room with the sink on the roof, a door, a thorn, a thorn is a door. Dogs wild and children play, and rainbows hitting on sunrays. A whiteboard, hanging, being drawn. The scent of cool morning, the chirping, the inability, who are you and why are you here? Confusion, waking up and never knowing where you are until back to dreamland you stand with a brother nearing a building. Radio waves and interferences. I hear it all around me, the buzz.
I'm alive.
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