photo from Hour of the Wolf (Ingmar Bergman, 1968)
In the past two weeks it happend so, that I was under the necessity of roaming somewhere, very far from here, while actually sitting in one spot, just spun around my axis. It was like some kind of test, a hard observation.
However, it was difficult to experience the lack of everything which bent me here, since the first letter I've carefully placed on these pages; it wasn't in vain.
I'm back. For good. Intended.