Mirrorland

Mirrorland Do you know that what will be has already been? The future is the past, only in a new chapter. How do you know that what is now is real? Maybe you're still sleeping and never waking up? How do I know if what I see is real? Do the smells, the tastes, everything I feel exist? Isn't my mind playing tricks on me and I'm still dreaming? Maybe I've been there before and these are just memories? All of this isn't true, even though it seems so. It's such a real image between waking and dreaming. Are your words true? Maybe I've already lost my mind. Everything I convince myself exists. Maybe the dream is a new reality. Nothing is what it's supposed to be anymore. Only black, only white, seems real. All of this isn't true, even though it seems so. It's such a real image between waking and dreaming. Mirrors, a whole city of mirrors. In each next one, someone else. Is he also alive or dreaming? Will it be the same if I cross the Rubicon? To pass through the mirror, to wake up and live. Perhaps the paradox is that the mirror is the gateway to life. It's breathing, to being oneself and not just a reflection. This is the truth, this is the truth. Dreams are mirrors and mirrors are dreams. All this isn't true, even though it seems so. It's such a real image between waking and dreaming.