Last night I dreamed I was in New York, on the top floor of a huge skyscraper. In the lounge, open and spacious room, the boundary that separated me from the abyss was a glass wall from floor to ceiling. The cement and steel as cold day show offered a beautiful night: straight sharp silhouettes filled with thousands and millions of lights of all colors, sizes and shapes, they were beneath me. Challenging
night in the distortion of reality, I take the hand to eye, and gradually slanted, I had the space will become more fun at times, dark and disturbing, others, to be reduced to a thin where the north line blended with the south.
Up in the middle of a deathly silence and the city at my feet, I felt powerful, a useless power, yes, but of power, the same as that experienced by the teacher to know before the student a grade that life can change it, or the pathologist, who knows what a patient is terminal anonymous before him.
I began to imagine the number of lives that cross huge budge on that stage, people who were born or dying, suffering or enjoying, very busy or losing time, with many illusions perdidas.De acquired or all of a sudden there was a blackout Overall, everything went black while the sound waves of a huge collective cry broke the windows of the room that bothered me so much to fly.
