In my head, there is a little person that can fly. It can
travel to many places at once. It can be a snail and a dragon at the same time.
It can be men or woman, a child or tree.
Nothing matters in my head, because the only rule is that
everything is possible, the words can be eaten, the bodies can be folded like
paper and send over the mail as love letters. People talk in rhymes and the
birds can give singing lessons. In my head I am shape less I can be an insect
in your neck or a shark in the ocean. I feel the wind and travel with it. I
never think I only do, I carry a magic pencil with me and draw lines
everywhere, and they help me remember where I have been and where I would like
to be.
I never know where those lines go, cause they never stop
dancing in my brain, entangle with my friends, creating relationships making,
making nodes that become stars on a map.
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