Snow is not always the subject of dreams. Dreaming is not always a fact, a fact of memory, a fact in memory or a fact that is remembered. Therefore dreaming is fact, but its memory is always just a possibility. Some forgotten dreams are silent, but there are also those that whisper constantly, itching the brain, sighing because they were not meant to be forgotten, whispering constantly, itching the brain because they refuse to be forgotten, sighing because they want to become memory. Some of these forgotten dreams whisper loud enough to be remembered while others grow quiet with time and die slowly, bit by bit, or suddenly – who knows. Dying is a fact. A fact that becomes memory of the living. Dying is never remembered by the dead. It seems that for the dead, dying is enough. Unlike snow, death is always the subject of dreams. And quite like some forgotten dreams, death also whispers constantly, itching the brain, refusing to be forgotten, sighing, sighing, just because.