actually, this is not about the bureau worm, but this would be the most simple explanation.

actually, this is about this convulsing urge, this deep push, that hits you from behind, like a big hammer and knocks your motivation, your ability to move, think, talk completely uncontious. sometimes, this depression is born from the work itsself, sometimes it comes from behind, sometimes, it just waits and never really hits...

this was one attempt to withstand this urge and go on, no matter what. oh, if I truly could encounter this frkn demon, I surely have my anger shaprened... I hate you so very much.

but sometimes, I ask myself: without these deamons, could there ever be a work of art? Without nightmares and strange mind-tricks - I wonder, if van Goghs sunflowers would be as interesting, if they were in full bloom, beautifully hightlighted by fresh sunlight...
deca