Since I found this console
I feel my reality has more meaning. 

It's an anchor, but the reality 
around it has becomes more fluid. 
Colors, shapes, space and time seems
unstable, or maybe more plyable. 

I am not sure how many days 
it has been since I've last written. 

Did I see 2 suns during the same days?

The dunes of sand are shifting around
but this console stays the same.

Some unusual rock formation
helps me to find my way back. 

To be able to write brings about
more question.  I don't know how I got
here, or what I am suposed to do. 
But at least writing about it 
bring back these questions, 
these thoughs. How long has it been?
How long have I been wandering?
Who am I?

I don't need to eat, and I am not even
sure if I am supposed to sleep. 

Every time I try to sleep, I only
dream about a reality filled with lights.
Only light, and voices. My own, and some
others. 

The flying creature are still roaming around.
I am sacred of them, but also feel connected. 
I feel connected to the dunes and the rock. 
But this console feels different, as if it
was outside of me. 

I've been sleeping in a small cave
in one of the biggest dune close to console,
but I think I'll start gathering rock around here. 

I somehow feel safer here.