The Tipping Point

Our vision changes

New passions new fears

Nothing remains the same

Still almost everything remains

The surface and the depth changes

What we talk about changes

Unthinkable things like

Talking about sex or admitting

Psychiatric diagnosis in public

Becomes the new normal

Our patterns stay the same

No one will see us

Because in all that visibility

We are invisible

Only the cold stone

In the bottom of the cave

Confirms in their own way

Our physical existence

Arguing

The art of communicating

Is a very difficult task

A process that never ends

The direction is almost

Always uncertain

The outcome often abysmal

But we keep on trying

Hoping that if we are loud

Or have good arguments we

Will eventually get through

But what if it doesn’t matter

What do we say then?

Flightradar

The only way is not a way

It is a highway of good intentions

We are clearly lost out here

Our hope is falling us

Life cannot be better or worse

Decadence the only option to change

We abhor change

Our fragile society has to remain

The same forever

The ghost of doubt

Is having a meeting

With our unconscious

Every night

Lamentations From The Coast

Feeling very lost

At the moment

Time flied away

And here I am

An old wrinkled man

Without future or past

Just an eternal now

A present path

Of decay and inhibitions

Until the sea carries me away