Ball rooms and fruits

Juicy fruits in the end of that fuckin Ballroom. I see trees and bushes walking around with a glass of black vodka. One pineapple together with two lovely oranges, followed by some apples. Green ones I might add. The red ones where all in the bathroom..sniffing some lines of cocaine. The band was playing Beethoven. Horses and brown dogs where all dancing. Or trying to. At one particular moment, a small pine tree came to me and asked me to dance.
We started reasonably well, but it all went downhill when I asked if she had a cigarrette. I know, you are thinking : "ooh what a stupid dream you are having".
At that precise moment I woke up.

Waking up,cigarrettes,clouds,time, trees and birds are all living part of this writting. Books and laptops. As dancefloors. And tv. My table is filled with coca-cola,fruits,coffee and empty jars. A cell phone ringing, but not sounding. Sounds strange ? Try and listen to Yeh Jo Halka Halka. I heard somewhere that "Love is a sacred breeze that comes from the air of Paradise" .
You know, the sacred place where Adam and Eve had their story.



And Sadhanipa echoes through my ears.
And outside nothing happens.