A group of thoughts;)

It is a process, everything I own, my eternal belonging – this personal intimate trial of mine. A grotesque story of practicing witchcraft, in which the judge, the executioner and the condemned convict are but a single man (an occult idealization found only in those 13^th century novels of old). Obscured evidence that justice is slow and it takes time, measuring all trembles on my own private Richter scale. The only dominion I claim as my own, this perpetual existence, the pursue for truth… a truth.

Away from silence, pushed outward by a peculiar dynamic of events, keeping the darkness ever at bay. Guided by the maps of the skies, these ships have never forgotten the secrets of the sea; never stranded and always sailing in a certain direction, seeking only for messages in corked bottles. Preserving our course always ahead of the current, are we?

Predictable in our chaotic drift, only in the times when we found our ways; here, abusing secretive laws of alchemy seeking refreshing methods in our fearless and equally pointless revolutionary endeavor to find new elements in the periodic table…