If you touched
Admitting that it was makeshift was at least as real as a dream, even though it didn't make a premium at this time. It was like a dream, it was falling. He was confused by flying and falling.
He had fallen with open arms and when he believed he was going to fly, and not so gliding or anything, but a sudden, sudden fall. If you lived something that was not your right, they would unjustly take away what was right, so he couldn't even digest being where he was, didn't feel belonging, because whenever he felt belonging, he was always deprived or had to move away.
More than the pain of the things that never passed, it was that they would never end anymore.
You couldn't get rid of anything you wanted to get rid of, but everything was turning to a different dimension. You could write, of course you should be able to erase it, but it was not so easy to destroy a living bloody word, somehow it existed once, your destruction would go into the murder of words, you could never tell a story again, words would get offended and you couldn't write. Maybe if you touch it, you will fade, if you kiss you will start to injure yourself on your lips
Your hands could not, moreover, could not hold a pencil. Faith enough to make yourself believe that it was a dream afterward. It means that he was giving up himself in this age. I was laughing even if I broke, I think that muscle of my face remained that way, from a time when I laughed a lot. There was nothing to do after this hour, I was not going to stop me laughing, no matter how nervous it seemed.