are you real? i'm not sure you are. i only see you for a few hours. do you need to eat? do not need to be sad? do you cry? are you ever unhappy? do you get tired? do you have a life?

are you happy?

perhaps you are. perhaps those smiles i see in the photographs mean that you are happy. perhaps you were happy. what are you feeling now?
from then till now, from the photos, from the last words you wrote, from the last letter, what emotions have you gone through. is my impression of you just an imprinted imagination of what you might have been feeling.

how much do you ever see of anyone? how often, for how long. how much before we can call a friend?

are you real. or will you just appear once a year, and fade away again.

just a little recap on whether i exist in this physical world. whether i still exist. or whether my brain is just playing tricks on the non-existent alter-ego. or my brain could be pretending to be playing tricks on itself. i would never know. and how do i believe you

cheers.
drink the wine of life, before the spirit evaporates into the air, leaving behind the dregs of the acids.
the alcohol, means nothing. it is only a medium, a solvent, an effector, to facilitate the transport and expression of the unique 'impurities' to your senses. the taste and value is not of the alcohol. but of course there are the alcoholics who get carried away and misguided in life.
i think i digressing too much. but well. wine and life.

cheers again.