Lucia procession

madness. when it comes – I can tell You about it very precisely. it's like a scream in a silent movie. tension that cannot be brought outside.
my body ached, it was hard to stand upright.
I went out.
dark gray, the world soaked from skies to the ground.
saint Lucy's bright windows, the raindrops smash against the glittering panes.
then a dark, dark forest.

the tension tears blindfold, only sadness afterwards.