good_natured_union_62847

I gave shelter to the most mysterious shadow wandering the edges of consciousness. Now I’m a witness to her game with chaos, weaving threads between reality and dreams. And just when it seems everything has been seen and understood, she whispers: “Are you sure you’re not part of my dream?” — and suddenly your echoed voice sounds louder than your own, while in the corner of the room a pineapple starts growing, singing an opera about the absurdity of existence, and you stand there trying to figure out who’s really in charge — you, her, or that damn fruit.