Consciousness is what coagulates reality, its reality. Therefore, there is a reality for every consciousness. Each head is a world, each head lives in its world. And all those worlds are different. Immersed in a subjective reality believing that everyone shares their reality. Like the dreamer who dreams that everyone dreams of his dream, everyone dreams that they share the same dream. And what they share are kaleidoscopic versions of the same lies.
Nightmares that reinvent themselves, cravings that regenerate. Boqueando by a little air inside a chronic apnea. They stir, suffer, agitate, become anxious, despair, torment themselves.
The Reality does not look like that immense and agonizing communal bedroom, where you walk around kicking, punching the air in the midst of loud shouts.
They have a strange sleeping sickness. There is no way to wake them up.
Not even kicks.
It only remains to wrap them up so they do not cool off on their eternal night of death.
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