The hidden me

This is a piece I scribbled down during a transitional flight between countries… between time zones.

Silent replies to enthusiastic greetings
Night that drags on
and the silence that consumes all…
even darkness turns stark by corrosion of yawning faces

When one chases the fine line of time,
meanings disapear as you stand between worlds.
Brains slow to a thoughtless banter
and thus begins your existence as a zombie.

Thoughtless, murky dreams.
Memories exist, but without emotions
Yes, when we are tired… emotions ceases.

Reading it is like watching myself committing some stupid act while under the heavy effect of alcohol.