Slowly our island adventure is nearing its end. The events which happened there seem to confuse the protagonist and cloud his mind. Would he still be able to adapt socially to the society after this long period of solitude? How would he react to other people? Would his dark side get the upper hand? You can find this out in the new episode! And Roumex has made a soundtrack about this uneasy vacillation between reality and madness. This duo has just released their "Katharsis" EP on Kittball and their dark and mysterious sound perfectly fits the tense situation on the island and in the mind of the main character…
‘I arrived here, standing at the edge of the jungle, well hidden from their eyes. I pushed two branches aside so that I could get a better view of them. They were splashing and giggling, and diving – naked - into the water of my ocean. She playfully pushed his head under the water. He had, like in the theater, completely exaggerated, gasping for air. He called her by the name of Linea. His voice was firm and happy, echoing back from the rocks. The ship, actually only a smallish yacht, rocked gently in the calm waters of the bay. My body filled up with excitement. It felt like small ants going up my limbs.
A little later they were lying in the sand. They enjoyed the midday sun on my beach and held hands, exhausted from her love game in the refreshing water. I heard their voices softly. A storm raged inside my head. If I went back and hid in the forest, they would never discover me. They just would sail away from here. Somewhere in their happiness - and later misfortune - they would keep the island as a blurry blissful memory. Without knowing who was lurking in the woods. Without knowing that I was hiding, behind the waving branches. Without knowing that they had come so close to disaster until I pronounced my warning. I could have stood up and proudly raised my head. As a representative of the people, I would have opposed them. Again and again I repeated Humboldt's words in my head, which have always fascinated me and had become a real battle cry for me:
"The greatest man, therefore, is the one who represents the concept of humanity in the highest strength and in the greatest extent, and to judge a man means nothing other than to ask what content he has given to mankind. What concept should one form of humanity if it were the only pattern from which one could remove it? "
But is a madman aware of his own madness? How could I be sure this was still the case? And how could I be sure that I could still trust my mind after the long, lonely months on my island… ?’
