I dream that I awake to find all the objects and fixtures in my room rearranged in the manner of various rooms I’ve lived in. I don’t know where I am. But this doesn’t disconcert me, in fact it’s almost reassuring, and nicer than waking up in my actual room. I go with the dream, prolonging it.
Everyone carries a room about inside him. This fact can even be proved by means of the sense of hearing. If someone walks fast and one pricks up one's ears and listens, say in the night, when everything round about is quiet, one hears, for instance, the rattling of a mirror not quite firmly fastened to the wall.
Notes for a fragmentary novel entitled The Moment, linked at the top of the page.
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