We stand alternately on the platform. We stand in the changed Time; we follow the side sound of blind tracks purely, disciplinedly unceasingly. Here the joy of existence is that we dare to get up and hope again - what was once priceless and perhaps most precious!

Blood clots lift up rocks, tiny dams, wordless in us, like silent murderers who silently sit down and ****, choking alive! The final fragment of Being is now scattered with monotonous and melancholy indifference, while under the surface the devouring death moves and bites…

The year-ring of the seasons is placed on our faces: The broken tears of snow, soot and sky send their sky-whining messages to us! "We are only digested on our own, and we are free to digest us in degrees of self-pity!"

With the gaping black threat deep in our hearts, the flowering spring and summer of the missed happier years stares at us. The cradle of the mundane universe of life, in which innovative love may have been conceived! -

This is how we stand, we stand and wait in the hope of a safer start, and we do not realize under the surface secretly and individually how much of its hidden weight and driving force is the secret mechanics of the richness of forgotten details, the chain of small fragments! And if we are mistaken for a single moment in sure uncertainty - the obscurity of the future alienates us!

Let’s ask ourselves the eternal One-Question: Where did I have to start, and how long do I understand ?! "Desperate abandonment and abandonment is our most patient killer, because it doesn't ask much!"