Drawing in my sleep.
This is how I feel in the morning.
All these pictures
I draw with conviction.
They mean everything to me.
A summary of the crowding thoughts that steal my sleep.
Yet in the morning
when i have slept away my midnight worries
they mean nothing.
I study their shape, their texture…
Should I have labelled them?
Staying true to the reliability of the written word?
No…
This expression is unique.
A further relase I cannot justify by text.
My thoughts flow in unpredictable shapes.
It is this moment,
that the state I am in is perfectly explained.
To another they would seem ridiculous,
even to myself,
when i have travelled beyong the level in which they derived.
But these pictures will remain a true resemblence of my thoughts,
with my eyes closed
i trust the flow of my hand.
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