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That's what happened to him, for a long time, when he would go to bed early, sometimes, with the lamp barely lit, my eyes would close so quickly that I didn't even have time to think, if he ever did that at all.

He went to warn nobody in particular.

- I am going to sleep. – When it continued until half an hour later, the idea that it was time to reconcile sleep woke me up, when he wanted to leave the Kindle, he thought he still had in his hands and turn off the lamp.

Even when he went to bed, when sometime later, when he was asleep, he had not stopped reflecting on what he had just read, but such reflections had taken on a somewhat singular aspect, even if the old regents were a bunch of immoral apedist, what to him seemed like it was me as much as him, even as the Kindle detailed it, was an order of the cults of the city of darkness, a quartet, the rivalry of Giuseppe I and Giovanni V.

Being that he was following the teachings of his cult that helped him in his survival, even if it was for a few seconds in his awakening, he didn't care about the reason, even so, it was a weight of tons of concrete on his eyes, preventing them from noticing that the lamp was no longer lit.

Even at that time, when later on realizing that it was going to seem unintelligible, like, after metempsychosis, the ideas of a previous existence; the subject of the Kindle was disconnected from me, I was free to adapt or not to it.

In which he soon regained his peripheral vision, in the midst of his singular darkness, and I was quite surprised to find myself surrounded by an obscurity, soft and restful for the eyes, but even more perhaps for the spirit, to which it appeared as something without cause, incomprehensible, as something truly obscure.

When he asked himself what time it could be, he would hear the whistle of the trains that, more or less far away, like a bird's song in the forest, signalling the distances, informed me about the extension of the deserted meadow of the mystical forest, between the darkness of the mountains, where the travelers hurries towards the next stop.

While that was where he followed the path he follows, it will remain engraved in his memory for the excitement of discovering new places, performing unusual acts, for the recent conversation and the farewells under the strange lamp that still follow him in the silence of the night, and for the sweetness close to return.

He rested his cheeks softly against the pillow's beautiful cheeks which, full and fresh, are like the faces of our childhood, then he flicked the lighter towards a lamp, which he forgot to plug in, as he turned to see the clock.

Seeing that it was almost midnight. It was at that moment when the sick man, who had to travel and go to sleep in an unknown hotel, woke up at such an hour.

He rejoices in that fleeting moment when he sees a ray of light under the door.

In his insomnia the happiness of a new day, even in the winter fog, even if the employees are going to get up in a little while, the intercom may ring, so they could come to his aid, even if they help him, with the hope of being relieved gives you courage to endure suffering.

Even if just now you thought you heard footsteps; the steps approach and then move away, even in the light of the lamp, which was under the door disappeared, that hour, at midnight; they just turned off the gas; the last employee has already left and we have to spend the whole night suffering without remedy.

In his insomnia, he swam between consciousnesses due to pain, in which sometimes he only woke up for a brief moment, enough to hear the organic cracks of the woodwork, open his eyes to face the tunnel of darkness and enjoy, thanks to a momentary flash of consciousness, of the sleep in which the furniture was plunged, the room, that whole of which I was no more than a tiny part, and to whose insensibility I quickly returned.

So it was that then, while I slept, I had effortlessly regressed to an era forever past of my primitive life, to find again some of my childhood terrors such as my great-uncle pulling me by the curls of my hair and that it had dissipated. on the day that — date, for me, of a new era, on which he had cut.

Every time he thought about it in his sleep, however, the memory of it came to me as soon as I managed to wake up to escape my great-uncle's hands, and as a precautionary measure, I wrapped the pillow completely around my head before returning to the world of dreams.

Sometimes, as Eve was born from Adam's rib, a woman was born during my sleep, from a false position of my thigh, I came from a world of pleasure, pleasure that I was about to experience, I thought that she was the one who it offered, as for my body, that in hers I felt my own heat, it tried to unite with it, and I woke up.

As for the rest of human beings, it seemed to me something very remote compared to that woman I had left moments before; my cheeks were still warm from his kiss, my body felt achy from the weight of his.

Even at that hour, when, as it sometimes happened, she presented the features of a woman I had known in my life, I was going to dedicate myself completely to that objective: to find her again, like those who go on a journey to see with their own eyes a desired city and imagine that it is possible to enjoy, in reality, the enchantment of the dream.

The conclusion was that he was a terrible dreamer, he didn't have good dreams, because he didn't sleep every night, like this one of course, suffering from pain, in which few, his memory fading, I forgot the daughter of my dream in the last night.

A man who sleeps holds in a circle, around him, the thread of hours, the ordering of years and worlds, but he was not that man, in which at that hour, a man waking up, consults them by instinct and verifies in them , in one second, the point on earth where you are located, the time

The hours passed to the moment that each tick of the clock beat, in which until his awakening, which would not happen, since he did not sleep, but that order could be confused and broken.

Continuing in conflicting thoughts, until dawn, after insomnia, sleep comes to surprise him while reading, in a very different position from the one he usually sleeps in, his raised arm is enough to stop and make the sun retreat, and in the first minute upon awakening he will no longer know the time, thinking that he has just gone to bed.

Even if he wanted and couldn't fall asleep in an even more unusual and diverse position, for example after dinner, sitting in an armchair, then the turnaround will be complete in worlds outside orbit, the magic armchair will make him travel at full speed in time and space. space, and, at the moment of opening his eyelids, he thought he was more than mad, going through a hallucination of months before, in a different region, where he wanted to be sleeping, of course without being able to.

With his insistence that continued until the following hours, from the light of a lazy sun that wanted only to show efficiency, without really heating, in addition to illuminating, however, that I was sleeping in my own bed and that my sleep was deep, even about the relaxation of a mist of illusion to ease the tension of my spirit; so it lost sight of the place where I had fallen asleep, and when I woke up in the middle of the night, as I didn't know where I was, I wouldn't even know, in the first instant, who it was.

Even in that simple moment of its primitive simplicity, the feeling of existence such as it can throb in the depths of an animal; he was needier than the caveman; then the memory, in which it, not yet of the place where it was, but of others where it had lived and where it could be.

Still, when he arrived like a help from on high to free me from the nothingness I couldn't get out of alone, all of this, it was in a second, I was passing over centuries of civilization and the confusingly glimpsed image of light bulbs through electricity, and then, wearing shirts with the collar turned upside down, they gradually recomposed the original traits of my own self.

Knowing that perhaps the situation changing with the time of the world passing around them is imposed on them by our certainty that such things are themselves and not others, by the immobility of our thought in relation to them.

Even if it was true, when I woke up like that, my spirit agitated to try to know, without succeeding, where I was, everything revolved around me in the dark, things, countries, years, as for my body, limp and too lethargic to move, he sought, according to the form of his fatigue, to locate the position of his limbs in order to deduce from there the direction of the wall, the position of the furniture, in order to reconstruct and name the dwelling in which he found himself.

With his memory, still of arthritis pains and other diseases of the bones that spread over his ribs, knees, shoulders, he showed him successively several rooms where he had slept, while around him the invisible walls, changing places according to the appearance of the imagined piece, they revolved in darkness.