respire
Think we do things we're not aware of
and that's a purpose too
that's why they wanna be us
such lovable creature
that's worth memorizing
repeatedly
I can use this body to watch
(those and these horrifying imageries)
but they are irrelevant to me
so I am ignoring it
sewage
it all happens when you want to have a little try, even though you knew well that it's a simulation, then you gradually took it for real, now it seems to be eternal, and here you got things to grab onto, and it never ends, a maze you forgot how to get out
a lens/mirror between these simulations
is a purpose of zero point
there's always the equal distance
between them to that lens
with this
there's always at least
two worlds
as the counter part of each other
you must divide yourself
in order to see
thus an individual is naturally
at least a twin of its own
crackle
and be thrived
testifying
through reprise
revolving
with watchfulness
are you 'wrong'?
is it not righteous?
recurring the data
in your memories
rerun and rework
recite
in your mind
revisiting thousands of places
in these universes
re travelling
re write
dreams are your thoughts
about all possibilities
a wanderer
in your own realms
fabrication
I pretended to forget
that you were me
then I actually forgot the fact
that we are the same thing
same one, same identity
you, as me
was fine
that I checked
travelling in the past
that's why I couldn't find him
with his name
You took a stroll outside
under the ocean
and record this with words
written in an unfamiliar font
I, the identity I saw with my own eyes
was OK, with a mild smile on her face
I was separated by accident
and was transferred somewhere else
after the house was drowned by the dark and thick blue waters I saw standing by the big window there's no feelings of choke at all
what I knew was other people were damaged especially their eyes were blackened
before that we were running from the tides rushing up to the lands
I was avoiding puddles on the ground
trying to find ways to forward
at 19:14 the door was shut
I saw the image on the screen
earthquakes had happened
at this moment
I drew a British woman with an auto pencil and her name was Delor, a PCB chemical pollutant.
The whitish eraser was blended into my index finger knuckle when I rubbed with it against the paper it hurt a little.
On that newspaper/magazine like printings there was a picture of blue sky, which that blueness indicated burning sunshine.
I was writing: 'I have a walk outside', thinking the following 'at the beach', but I didn't finish that, and I didn't mean to write 'outside'.
I had a walk at the beach under the ocean
where is it?
where was I?
I left my identity here
and I am still alive
reflecting with words of my own record
after I sank into the waters