tea-drops

I feel like telling you something:
While barely knowing you, without having spoken much to you, I have the impression of knowing you intimately, and having spoken to you during long, sleepless nights. Needless to say, I don’t know much about your life, yet I have the (maybe made-up) impression to have a deeper understanding of the very core of your being, the ability to reconstruct your thoughts and emotions, for I think that we both have something fundamental in common. What that exactly is, is quite foggy to me. 
Perhaps it is one of those exceptionally pure and intense moments of clarity, of bright awakening. Out of the dumb daily sleepwalking. This pellucidness of the mind which might be archived with art, drugs, love, conversations, poetry or just with the aesthetics of one’s own thoughts. One of these rare rainless moments of intellectual and emotional ecstasy  you never forget. You know what I mean?