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Waking up in the morning when the sun is not up to rise. Going into depth of known but still strange. Wondering the reasons. Looking for answers that are not destined to be found. Lost in the dark woods of unreality. Six - in the morning. When the sun is not up. In the same bed with own fears in the same graveyard with own actions and own decisions. Please, write on the wooden cross: „she was. „ Even though, no one will be able to recall who.
- Just a girl - they will say.
- That one? What was her name?
- Hmmm. I do not remember.

The woods of unreality. With no rules and no boundaries. In the morning when the sun is not up and not going to rise. She wakes up. Happy - in the woods of unreality.
2007-07-15 21:02
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