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a man lies in his bed in a room with no door he waits hoping for a presence, something, anything to enterafter spending half his life searching, he still felt as blankas the ceiling at which he's staringhe's alive, but feels absolutely nothing so, is he?when he was six he believed that the moon overhead followed himby nine he had deciphered the illusion, trading magic for factno tradebacks...so this is what it's like to be an adultif he only knew now what he knew then...i'm open i'm open come in come in come in come in i'm openi'm open come in come in come in come inlying sideways atop crumpled sheets and no covershe decides to dream...dream up a new self for himself