I have, in my hands, the sphere of perspectives, parallel dimensions. When I see the world through it, I find different clues to understanding what conflicts me.
This morning the sun was blurring; the sky formed a carpet on which the chair in the corner rested. The back of the chair looked like a fence that flowed from the cotton floor. That was how I knew I needed to dampen the hardness of my words. They should remain behind the bars of contention so that none would come out of my mouth without thinking.
Some said I was crazy, that I only imagined it, but they were blind. Then I learned to see through the drops of water, the mirrors, the glass of someone’s glasses. Suddenly, I found that vision everywhere, it was only necessary to have mental eyes open.
One day I began to see myself inside. My sensations moved to the sphere. I felt surrounded, encapsulated, then I realized that a large eye was looking at me, but without seeing me, it was myself.
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