Somnivore Manifesto

Voices of insomniac ghosts and somnambulant spirits.
Soundscapes for my nightmares.

Sceneries of suicidal solipsism.
Dreamworld of depression.
History lies in front of us asphyxiating.
The memories that will happen.
With heartless smile and cold eyes they march by.
We observe in silence, like prey in hiding.
The fragile filter between sleep and wakefulness is made of old and flammable blindfolds.
Break the mould that you believe is shaping you.
Attach the shards to the skin of all your lurking bodies.

Open your eyes and dream.