parallel

Ein Tropfen auf meinem Kopf.

Ich starre regungslos aufs Wasser. Die Finger sind kalt.
Ich will nicht nach Hause.
Zuhause ist schön.

Hier ist es unsicher. Unsicher heißt, alles ist möglich.
Also sitze ich hier, unbegrenzt, mit dem Geschmack von Freiheit. Illusion.
Die Füße sind kalt.
Entropie.

Ich träume.
Schwebe durch Parallelwelten.
Abenteuer geschehen, niemand wird verletzt.
Ich träume vom Wilden, Ungestümen.
Sommertagen ohne Regeln. Von Nähe und Spannung.

Jemand läuft an mir vorbei, ich glaube nicht, dass er mich sehen kann.
Ich bin so weit weg.
Ich träume von anderen Realitäten. Anderen Chancen und Entscheidungen.
Herzklopfen, verursacht durch Magie. Den Chaosfaktor. Das Leben.

Niemand wird verletzt.

Nur ich, beim Wiedereintritt in die Realität.

Tropfen auf meinem Kopf, der Hand, dem Papier.
Tropfen auf der Realität.

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