Parts of your reality slid in between my lips. Afterwards I spent hours reading. Was the wind really blowing? I sat and listened to the blue, blue sky, the laundry and the pigeons, seagulls, swallows (were they really swallows?). In the sunlight we quiver like something resembling a precious stone resembling a glittering from the depths of the earth. About the transformation of the landscape and the white sky and the sea’s tints of grey. I wrote myself into a frenzy back then.