i was walking up the stairs. two men were with me. One for sure g, the other probably the Other. 
the building was very bright, it reminded me of the Guggenheim museum in NY, with its peculiar spiral stairs.
all in a sudden, yes all in a sudden, i heard a gunshot. it was against me. it hit me exactly in the nape. we were all silent for some time and looking at each other eyes. we were trying to understand what happened. I kept on with my conversation and then i said, <am I dead?>
I suppose i was. but did not feel anything, any pain, any fear, and i was still standing, in front of g. and the Other whose features were somehow blurred was standing there somewhere. Most probably he shot me.
so i got shot and then i told g. that i was dead, i am dead, it’s finished i am dead.
and i went up the stairs. feeling the same. with a hole in the back of my neck, without bleeding.
i read your lines and they make me sway
joyful is how you put into words
your feelings-just like the song of birds
and you are sensual when those notes make you dance
and you let go and give those feelings a chance
when the ego drops down into love as you say
it's when pure creative energy comes into play
