There's a tension between feeling lucky and feeling depressed, a tension no one will ever escape, there are no words to describe the feeling - maybe sound will do maybe it won't. Music - like every form of art(ifact) - takes its magic from your own mind. Engels once said: "Everything that moves people has to go through their heads first." I am wandering on the edge now, somehow afraid of my own bed. Afraid of lying still and thinking to much. I try to make the songs like writing your soul clear. It gives you peace on the one hand and pain on the other. But it is a pain like thorn beeing pulled out of your wounded flesh: somehow you are released, somehow there is a hole left behind. You realize once again: the hole existed since the beginning of your own thoughts and it only got covered by a great distraction - the great satisfaction. It never left. And it probably never will.