VI. Transposing Upon waking up, we face no one. Going places, nobody sees. Could it be that this is a picture in a dream That this is a dream. We go places, Closing our eyes, to go to sleep.
We live our lives traversing between the world imagined and the world at constant. We go in and out, places after places. Some remain with us while the other disappear. The texts written in iterations try to construct the relationship between what is seen and what is remembered; what is at constant and what is being imagined. I repeatedly wrote the text, each time my hand moved differently, and displacing them form its previous position. When overlaid, the writing loses its meaning because none of the iteration perfectly match. Like us and our days lived, we continue to search for meanings among the fragments of things we remember.
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