There’s this dream, night after night: It’s dark and I’m alone.
Not just alone, but the only existing human being left. I don’t know how, but I just know it, I know, that there‘s no one else, perhaps not even a single plant or a stone.
I’m dizzy and nauseated… and then I feel it – this pressure, this infinite guilt for being;
for the air I’m breathing and the space I’m taking away; for being something in an otherwise flawless nothingness.
You don’t know what’s going to happen, do you?
Maybe if I fit in…
Maybe if I really try…
Haven’t I got a chance?
Haven’t I got a right?