When I look at my dad, I see me, when I br speak, I hear my mother’s voice, when I br look at my hands, stocky and short, I see br my father’s hands, when I sing, I hear my br mother’s song, like my dad in appearance br but like my mother in sound, my mother is br music, my father poetry, yet the two br br Never got along, no wonder I never got on br with either of them, I have lived in my own br world since I was small, when I try to leave br sharing my thoughts with others, my sand br castles crumble, my soap bubbles burst - br feeling naked and sad, alone, abandoned; br I immediately return to my mental citadel br br Where no-one can get me, no feeling can br reach, no-one can hurt me, I have a secret br castle of quantum physics more mysterious br than the lore of the ancients, legends and br myths that feed my soul, a source of af- br fection and energy that keeps me strong br when reality strangles life out of me br br Every time real-life events kill a dream, I br find spiritual books assuring me a vision br is more valid than physical things, I look br at fearsome ghosts and scary phantoms br conjured by fancy, I can make them real br or let them go by offering them love and br - I actually DO love them br br For the role they play, keeping me en- br sconced in a dream that one day there br will be a world of unconditional love in br which spirits like me will exist happily... br br br Song: br br “Listen to the ocean, echo’s of a million br sea shells, forever it’s in motion, moving br to a rhythmic and unwritten music that’s br played eternally...