I remember a scene, once upon a time, when I was a little girl holding my mother’s hand. And I imagine a day when I was a young boy wearing a hat with a starry pattern.
While I was reaching for the memory of those days when I was an old man, my body suddenly became a hat. After becoming a hat flying in the sky, I started yearning to be a shoe hugging the ground.
After becoming the shoe, I passed through the smile of a girl, and, finally arriving at some person's shredded back, I remember.
I used to be father, a mother, an aged man, I used to be immature, pretty, ugly, I used to be a sibling, a friend, a lover, someone else, a boy, a girl, I used to laugh, to cry, I used to be happy and angry.
As I close my eyes, in the darkness, all these people are drifting. On the surface of the silent jet black film, my body drifts inside them; and their bodies keep drifting too, inside me.
One day, you will have a dream of meeting me, and I a dream of meeting you.
Like an illusion, you may be able to hear the images collected in the darkness of my camera obscura, in the hubbub of the street.