Inside mountain - brain.

Problem solved.
Fancy pants.
A smashing guitar, (mostly in my left ear).
The beating heart.
And I can feel my pulse, in the upper part of my lip.

Factory - The hanging gardens.

Factory ship. On it's way.

Safe in there.

Like mud.
I could still see green and pink dots, floating.
Wet and I shaped it into a mountain.
Or maybe it became more like a slope.

Inside the factory.

His anger. The bird stays cool beside him.

Four easter eggs hovering over their nest. The loss of four unique feathers.

Treasures, kept in a special place.

Rain.
More rain and some pink noise.
A new found banjo.
An explosion.
No indian summer.
Indian dreams.

Rubber blobs stuck in limbo, listening to Urania.

Collected items when dreaming of indians.

Today, that annoying music in my left ear, again.
Like sandpaper against my eardrum.
And that same voice over and over, it doesn't tell me anything of importance.
No letters. No words.
Grey sky, cold feet. It's a greyish pink day today.

Paper, an other kind of universe.

Sketches for Mary Kingsley.

In there.

My desk is in order, nothing is wrong with it.
It doesn't make a sound.
And it's waterproof.

Thursday.

The fan is always on.
It's quite disturbing I must say. That breathing sound in my ear. Or like a constant wave rolling up on shore.
And there is this slightly vibrating thing under my palms.

Four fine feathers.

Hands touching a cool, but violent energy field

Found objects, I will store them here.

Finally, I could see the colour blue.

Her back.

And there was light, with a shadow by the side.

And the birds.

Some kind of war, he said.

Hej.
There will hopefully be something here, in a day or so.