The naked body rambles among the trees, the sound of dry leaves breaking, cracking and splitting under bare feet, as it stings the flesh beneath. Time stands still in this desolate brown and green land, the only movement coming from the wandering naked body and an occasional breath of light wind disturbing the tranquil trees. I am awake or am I still dreaming? Somewhere between fact and fiction, these images are the lies I am telling, the narratives I have woven together. They are the truth that exists: in my consciousness, my memory, my dreams.