A year has passed since the first entry. It wasn't a bad year, but it was also difficult. It was marked by death. The long-awaited rebirth is delayed. The apocalypse does not seem to have happened, but its specter does not disappear. There was no complete annihilation, but doom and minor ends keep happening.

I am going to continue the entries. They have become a habit for me and I like their rhythm. I stopped asking myself about their meaning. Is anyone reading? Sometimes I find out that yes, which makes me a bit happy and a bit worrying, but in general I have no idea.

I have just finished the piece, 3 Songs to words by Baczyński, but I do not expect any longer break. A short stop at the port. Big forms on the horizon.