i see you every workday
my words are a job for you
should i be pleased about it?
sometimes i think it was not real
sometimes i think it was not possible
then i try to remember
i try to catch why it becomes this way
it seems so far
it seems like it is all right
it seems like nothing happened
i can not remember why, anymore
i just have this feeling that all of this is a theorem, a truth that i can not change
that is why i keep quiet about it