I was thinking about lullabies and words of colors filled with some harmonics sense...
Where they would ship, into another neuronal tragedy, or just in an imaginary source of sorrow, in which each person completes his own pilgrimage and ideas start flowing around their emtee heads, just another failed image of ourselves, our damaged soul...
We just can't explain how meaningless we are... maybe my inner me is talking by myself, maybe i need more languages to express... or maybe not, or maybe no one cares neither I nor the cosmos...
Bi-lateral... Bi-polar... Bi-neurotical...
"Leave me your cure"
