¿Dónde está la emoción? ¿Adónde se fue, maldita sea? ¿Qué pasó, qué cambió, y por qué?

Demasiados acentos, escasas respuestas.

Do you mind?

¿Qué tiene sentido?

...but after all this time the illusion still pervades: reality has to be somewhere, it has to have some form, and therefore, it is able to be found. But where is it? What's its shape? And how's the shadow it produces under solar rays?
...after all this time the illusion still holds because there's simply no alternative: if reality is to exist, then it must, then it does; if I'm to find it, then it exists; if I'm to exist, then I do.
...and after all this time it still seems the search still points to a pointless direction.

-What did it feel like when you found love?
-Oh dear, I don't think I found it.

-How do you trust your feelings when they can just disappear like that?
-I think the only way you can find out is to have feeling.