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i simply sleep. i sleep whether it is day or night. you could say, that i just pretend to be asleep and that i am actually quite wakeful, but when i look at myself, it seems that i am more similar to what one would call asleep. i can’t wake me up anymore; my situation is nearly comatose, as if i am unable to catch any resonance of the external world. i am always the same. when i gaze at myself, all i see is that corpse embodying the oblivion and representing the picture perfect image of what a person like me should be for others.

what would happen if i would change my name?

would i miss something, if i would do that? see, i never cared so much about my name, but others seem to do. my name became my identity. frankly, i believe, i might win my hearing back when i would destroy all of that. i never agreed on the identity people stamped on my picture perfect sleeping body. as far as i can remember, my corpse has been imprisoned in a golden cage, build out of ideas that weren’t actually mine. i guess i just got confused one day and decided to burry myself deeper and deeper into the pillows.

i couldn’t care less about losing my name. how could i, if i basically sleep trough my live in that cage that was build by others? i have nothing to lose except for my endless coma. would people start to call me crazy, if i would change my name? would that be my new identity? i would probably awaken from this endless coma. i mean, what would it indicate if i would be called crazy? that i don’t belong anywhere anymore? that i don’t fit in any box anymore?

oh, how refreshing that would be…

i would still be me, even when i would be called crazy. because i am not crazy, it would be just another name. we could still live together, my picture perfect now awakened body and the one that is called crazy. and they, they would just name me crazy, while actually, for the first time in my life, i would be me.