The street becomes a dream within a dream in which conventional elements become something else, distorting their connotation.
In a labyrinth of new coined meanings, where birds awaken us from our torpor, where windows suck us into houses where inhabitants whisper hidden secrets to each other.
This is what the human eye does not see, but feels and transcribes in its own way channelling symbols, figures, entities in the torpor of this dream.
Until waking up, avoiding breaking the balance.