The Sleeper I

How have I, how have we been saved and disappointed? What happens to me, what happens to us? Not much, probably. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, that's as far as it goes. Something else in the evening. And yet I carry, everyone carries a sparkle of their own self within them, not only their wounds and hopes, but also their own glow and vitality. Completely entangled with dreams and memories, experiences and feelings, these little infinities, the private universe in which I have always flown around on a carpet, breeding pink butterflies and going home drunk.