Vista.

Others, like themselves, see me awake. But I: am a sleepwalker! My eyelids are open. I have shoes, I have clothes, like the other passersby. I am on my way, among the people, in the scorching, lead-polluted streets. The words defeat and defeat come, meaningless. The words dead end and dead end revolve, senseless. The exhausted shadow drags itself over this planet. And time seems to have stopped in hell. My shoe is left behind among thousands upon thousands of other shoes left behind. But: you will hear no moan from me, and no sound of defeat will rise from between my lips. You will see the gleam of my eyes, I am calling you. You will see my shoulders on which I have set you to ride: I drive away the dead end. With me you pass through hell, with me you break the hard lock of time, with me you see how deathless you are. With me, who am only a sleepwalker in you: I, your deepest desire: the deep desire to be worshipped and to worship in the human embrace of love...