What stands between reality and dreams is not a thin veil that falls off as soon as it is lifted, but a wall of unfathomable thickness. The wall is made of forgotten bricks and stones. Over the years, moss marks have grown darkly, and wind and rain have eroded them. I often put my ear against this cold wall and listen to the sounds coming from the other end - reality and illusion intertwined into vague echoes, like whispers from another world. These are two worlds that never intersect, running silently on their own tracks.
Only at the moment of life and death, the moment of sinking into the abyss and emerging from the water, will the wall suddenly become transparent and melt like ice. Sadly, people who wake up always forget what they just saw when they open their eyes. Only a trace of confusion is left, like the mist leaking between the fingers, proving that something once passed through that high wall.
Intention: The past cannot be pursued, but the future can still be awaited