Hey. Could we do that again? I know we haven't met, but I don't want to be an ant. You know? I mean, it's like we go through life with our antennas bouncing off one another, continously on ant autopilot, with nothing really human required of us. Stop. Go. Walk here. Drive there. All action basically for survival. All communication simply to keep this ant colony buzzing along in an efficient, polite manner. "Here's your change." "Paper or plastic?' "Credit or debit?" "You want ketchup with that?" I don't want a straw. I want real human moments. I want to see you. I want you to see me. I don't want to give that up. I don't want to be ant, you know?

Sanity is a madness put to good uses; waking life is a dream controlled.

[ho sognato un racconto stanotte, scritto da me. l'ho letto a voce alta, in sogno, e quando ho aperto gli occhi ce l'avevo ancora in testa. poi è sparito, travolto dalla realtà.]

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