The metro dreamer - Living Aristaless

I kept my way back home at the metro,  remembering with grace my child crazy thoughts. I arrived my place in that remote parade of the city, where streets converge full of vines and watery streets, hidden from the noise of the world. In a passage of peace. I reached the main woody door, shaped in iron and old black wood, opened the lock and as the sound of the lock came out from the cold metal, the vibrations of dimmed birds in different scales turned the lights on. The smell of oil, canvas, copper and solvent reminded me old times of painting, and in clouds of colors while the photons of my desk lamp were reaching my retina and invaded all the room I saw it. The corner. Behind a basket of wood, two bins of blue and green, completely dirty and full of dust, with sparks of paint and tiny bits of yellow all around I saw it. There it was, I grabbed a chair, and stayed looking at the spot for a moment, just to remember how did it feel again. I approached on my knees put aside all the stuff in between and put my right eye close to it... in a blink of the eyes, a strong pull made me fit into the hole. A dark and silent moment like death itself came and just forgot in a moment where I was and voila! it was real!!

I emerged at the other side, against the imposibility of this imaginary situation, I remained for a while, hoping for it to finish, hoping for it to be vanished. But it never happened. I tried to remember where I came from, but without much success. The colorless environment brought me some memories about colors which vanished again by the intense grayscale that the dusty air at the other side of the arista gave to me. I moved rubbed my eyes, gave a look and definitely it was genuine;The dusty room was real.

Over the floor was a corpse, skinny, wearing the same clothes as me, barely breathing, like sleeping of weaknes, of starvation, could that be possible? is it the other me? I touched his back and wait for a response, but nothing. His halo of heat was so dimmed that he seemed to be dead, but the sound of his breathing made me react and try to animate my poor body. Indeed he was me, and was just there, laid at the corner, skinny, starved and almost dead. I was almost dead!

My pass through the corner killed him I guess, now what? Can I come back? what about all my friends and people I love? I might be alone in this world. He moved in a moment, and opened his big eyes, in a very weak movement tried to incorporate himself. His breath smelled like acetone due his starvation, his eyes could barely focus me, his sleepiness was strong and his weakness was stronger over him. Then he said -If every corner takes reality from this one, and what is happening here is the opposite to other realities, I have to find how many realities are connected to this one... I am pretty sure all of them are going to be just amazingly fantastic! after his eyes bright of emotions for the last time, I died. The sensation was strong, me, wasted by time and misfortune, thrown to time and poverty, to the oblivion of the world, dead at his own place, starved, and still full of glory and light. I cried.