I write about everything but I don’t even know what I wrote.
I sleep too much that I don’t even know what is reality.
I put too much sugar that I don’t even know if it’s still a coffee.
I put too much love that I don’t even know if it’s real or just an ecstasy.

I smile at everything — I don’t even know what I like.
I notice everything that I don’t even know where I’m at.
I have so much to show that I don’t even know what to display.
I have so much in my mind that I’m afraid I have nothing to say.