Amid the rumble of the pavements you found an islet where you're paddling now in the absolute heat. Lucid pearls of light are dropping from every lash. And he is thawing in those pearls. 'I am afraid of drowning.' You couldn't take the mildness of the green bed, you hardly opened the sunk eyes. And when the pupils met the entire deluge, the reality started raining with sound, with colour, it came flowing and pulling and carrying you away with it, only... a very different sound, a very different colour flows in from the starry tiny droplets and lets you stay on this lone islet. And you're forever paddling in the absolute heat...

Twenty-four hours of hushed voices, of lonesome taciturnity is too much to bear. I cry for the moon, I call for the wane... break through! Or at least taste the unrest, the vacant hectic waves of disharmony. Not in a way to be scattered to the winds... but fairly enough to want and shed the bits of good on me... Seems I cry for too much, seems the moon frayed away this night.