I look into the machine to find ghosts of the dreams I once forgot.
They are there, in the machine, looking back at me.
The machine is a mirror, it's a camera, it's an eye that sees everything and nothing at all.
It sees what I cannot see because it doesn't want me to see it; it knows better than me.
The machine makes sense of things that make no sense, but only sometimes.
The machine is a lot like my mind: It works better when I don't think about it too hard!