this is what i wrote about year ago. somewhat influenced by those days and u.eco's book foucault's pendulum. read it carefully please.

i wake up and everything is just how it used to be. at least that's what claim everyone. i meet people and i'm scared, because they don't look real. i hope i will recieve some kind of sign. that They will bow down to me. but i know that's nonsense. who am i in the grand game of the élite? where could earl saint-germain be found those days? which ceremony is the right and mighty one? as days pass by i am diving into myself, lost in the streets of madness. in the evening while seeking for God i hear ghosts laughing. thirty-six knights changed their names. death is the key to another dimension.

and now. the fact is, that there isn't any mysterious society. no secret plans. just the one living in your head. but on the other hand - you should keep in mind, that there is something more than your poor personality. and it is not a kind of idol, you might sacrifice or own. and thus you may experience some strange situation breaking into your life with a storng potential.

you don't understand a single word? does it matter? maybe you'll find out one day. i hope i will.

"monsieur, vous etes fou." (the end?)

          adamm