Do not do drugs in public places

I am. I am what I am. I am what I am and nothing else. It is simple as that. No no no no no no no. I dreamt about this and now I am actually writing it down. Things in reality can never be as good as in a dream. Especially if that thing, concept or text; even something as concrete as a text is taken from that dream and smashed down, taken by its very guts and thrown right down on the paper. See how it looks, how it stares at me, while in my dream it seemed all to be slight strokes on a klavier on a piano. The gentlest of pianos. No no no. My dreams are not opaque or anything of the sort. They are the complete opposite of what one would expect; of what I would expect. Normally, dreams are dreamy and reality is really. With me it has turned around; it was a slow process such that I can only see or tell when it more or less begun and that it has now been fully completed. My dreams are real and reality has become like a dream to me. My sanity still tells me that it is not really how it really is, however, there must come a time when I too snap and start to believe in the things I see, believe the things I taste, touch, believe what I believe and at that point there is no turning back. All others will be ousted and there is no one left to cling to except me and the things I experience.

Last night I was standing at the bus stop and the stones which were neatly put down on the sidewalk started to come out and whereas they were normally laying down in a horizontal way they now stood up vertically and wobbling what you might call their hips and started coming towards me, not in an agressive way or anything, but they just came to me in a very slow pace, such that; if I were to have been afraid at that very moment, I would still have had the possibility to run away, but now that I am dreaming, nothing seems to have scared me back then. Why would I have been afraid? The trees were humming as always, but as the stones were slightly moving towards me the trees started hissing in a hissy way. It is hard to describe it and I am afraid I cannot show you in proper language-signs, because they are not allowed to be described; those sounds. Those sounds became one sound fairly fast. It first raised the pitch and became louder and louder until my hearing could not hear the tone anymore and all there was left was a tiny squech in my own ear. High-pithced and from far I felt a storm coming up, not a gale, but a wave of air. Short, hard and warm. I braced myself and let it all fall over me untill I felt a kid jerking my jacket and asking me: Sir, what are you doing? Nothing, nothing, nothing that concerns you for that matter. But.. but I am only trying to help, you see, the bus is here. What? Oh, thanks I suppose.