The questions want to arise in a frenzy, I try to silence them, because my situation is meaningless. I don't even know if I'm dreaming anymore.
I stand up, the breeze blows and I shout at him:
-Stop it, you don't exist for me!
But there it is, interfering in my destiny, it is a placebo that takes advantage of my frustrations to show me that even if it is little there is something different.
I start walking again in the opposite direction from where I first walked. If there is a mystery in this forest, before I lose all trace of sanity, will I solve it?
Sanity?
Stop, don't even try, we must only walk; if we are walkers, we must not stop walking.
Trees, trees, more trees.
Steps, steps, steps...
Does it make sense?
I sigh, and continue. It is hard to try and try, and achieve nothing; but harder not to try.
I observe each thing, each tree, if I find a clue, something new will happen; that's the defect of things that seem perfect and are not.
Steps, steps, steps...
What is this forest?
A breeze stifles me for what my conscience has asked. But that was a question I wanted to ask too.
A forest so monstrously uniform, you'll never understand.
For the forest is so intricate, it would seem to move to the rhythm of the walker.
As I walk, I compare this forest to a primordial beast; perhaps the beast devoured me and I am the last trace of what I once was.
A compendium of ideas, without identity. But, in spite of everything, I will walk a little more.
Steps, steps, steps...