How often we experience parallel realities.
Sometimes they proceed independently, each with its own rhythm, but at other times, entwined with other dimensions, they plait the threads of our tangled lives.
Whenever I am carried away and compelled by a new current, I feel the air of freedom as reality dies.

Cezary Duchnowski


We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.

William Shakespeare, The Tempest, Act 4, Scene 1, 148–58