Fatal attack of the drowning marais, sounds like a zipping tequila drought in nowhere...(27/12)

Suddenly, it becomes lighter and lighter. Spiralling down onto the floor, a realistic approach to the base with the feather weight...dispatched, dislocated, the chaotic pattern leaves an enigma for the disorientation, a mismatch of the black and white tiles that reflect a glancing motion of the street and the strangers. Some on the air, some landed, it is a search of a next cohesiveness. Border, lining at the unlimited space, it deserves an der schönen blauen Donau. Functionality, sensitiveness, life and after life. We are strangers to loads and gravity. Again, and more, and intensity, and intensification. The black tie, a shelter of the darkness, sightless, requiem, epitaph.