Night in Marocco. Stars dizzeling as soon as starship has fallen in ocean. Big, dark ocean with lot of ancient souls, desperate for dying and getting in chinese mashroom soup. Bird, look, its bird! Runing so fast, as if his feet would be burning. Hes runing unto ocean surface. Suddenly – wait! Sun has arrived, night has become a day in desert. Desert is on my plate. It tastes like sand. Damn! Its so good to be on this ship

Day in december. Guts in gold on stone. Thrown for frogs of future snapshot basement , but they dont know, where is a yellow suitcase to put them in. Disturbing wind.