The fear-tension in my heart is growing to literary proportions! My eternal-childish self is constantly fighting battles of existence between peace and eternal anger! I feel I cannot run away from the haunting dragon-demons of my uncertain future! However, if I were to ask friends to know with calm empathy the hidden reflection of my self, many would already give up their secret, cohesive relationships; superficial exhibitionism would hardly leave them any choice!

In my soul, there still exists a sinking, tossing, more peaceful Atlantis: a micro-macro Cosmos in the process of destruction! Sisyphus, disappearing on a bulldozer, whose pensive, otherworldly voice is for the umpteenth time deliberately distorted into nothingness! From a succession of memories, memories melt into smiles! - It seems triumphant annihilation when the Universe goes round and universally proclaims the universal naseous desire of blood molecules!

The trembling despair of rich shadows clinging to each other is like countless desert lives! The balmy evening breeze still circulates on high. The restless night, like a chill envelope, shivers and shivers the complex nerves! The honey-coloured sunbeams still cling like sunflowers to the scaly blood of cracked petals! A sky-high air, pregnant with proud light, is drained and dewy! - Unmerciful Being, like brown eyes, stares longingly at me: mortal minutes cease, for only the mischievous, pure curiosity shines like a sizzling magnet in existence!

The ancient calamity of the relationships that can be made on earth, The torment of all torments and shrinks me further! Often the consolation of new-sweet saintly-misses is of no help, if they reward for little trifles! No more need of the temporary possibility of continuation: cheap promises, false hopes! I should erase from my past the cursed minutes of my past, and what bleeds me daily! In the catacombs of my unhappy mind, I would in vain forget, The smelling filth soon accumulates!

On the infinite wall, once more, it would be well if a tiny, tiny crack could be found! Vain, obstinate epochs of defiance keep their hold upon their own! - Our disconnected, socially-hybernated senses may say otherwise; as if everyone else existed here in a dim, transcendent dimming! As now Celebrity dames, disowned seventh-coast V.I.P. faces parade in their every movement, playing the self-deception of calculation, and the unhappiest among them, who bathes in the radiant optimism of his being!

He who deceives himself with the antidote of consoling lies, Seldom receives from his inner self the redeeming message, That from the sincerity of his soul he has lost the known Essence! Were we to walk the sure path-way of things' definite, predictable emotions, and see in their context the beaded holy-eyes of others, we would be the embodiment of a hard, earthly Golgotha! - All farewells are now the stylist's made-up veneer of faces: long since run out from under them Executioner-plagued Time! Seldom can a change of age mark a sure bet!

Insanity and disregard for the most elementary human interest is always unavoidable and often fatal! A series of ingeniously tragic coincidences can at any time challenge the individual, still thinking childlike individual while too much of the World is lost without end! A rush of creative ingenuity lurks in everyone, and all ideas and plans go up in smoke when there is less and less to choose from the industrious chain of multiple connections!


In this century of the information cyber-revolution, conscious, lazy idleness is just as visible and tangible! A wide variety of spectacles and cleavages are always caught by the curious camera: the retouched smearing of indispensable eye make-up is rarely noticed; the question to be answered is: what has changed?! - The booming melody of horns blaring from the bones of horns screams in our faces, proclaiming that something has happened to the city and its fallible people! The stench of "Nothing's right!" is getting worse! - is not right!


It is as if everything and everyone has turned into empty shells, sinking in on themselves, like our stinking refuse to be thrown away!

Unfinished business is the most difficult business of our days! Where are the formulas of our Faithfulness in handshakes and hide and seek?! Grimacing and smiling long in the fierce curved reflections of ***** pools, Our self's sad, bleeding gaze! A faint suspicion might be trusted and always justified: for the conciliatory feelings of homeliness, all that is needed is a little unusual cynicism!

Something within is shrinking, at first barely perceptible, then greedily gnawing away at the hell of human souls gone gangrenous! In accordance with the laws of humanity, a belated realization signals its protest that we must necessarily drop out of the fairy-tale wave-net system at last! To the thought of a single romantic *******, many eyes are already scattering sparks, responding with dry flashes!

What can the man of the Age imagine the trampled humanity, the continuous mud-dripping of his personality's Celeb-bubble?! Having gazed into each other's disembodied eyes, we suddenly found ourselves in a hall of mirrors, a seldom-seen earthly copy of ourselves; still the heartbeat of the heart is still beating and beating! Like a poisonous greenhouse effect, a sprawling crowd of jerks and jerks is growing, and if no one will be a prophet-scholar to speak out against pop-cultural, superficial cultures, the paint will soon peel off our faces!

Not a single encounter - not many - will be made in the sacred spirit of the harmonies that can be created! - Soon there will be at least ten billion self-serving droids serving with ant diligence, wandering willfully without independent thought in the halls of mirrors that cover their lives!

If I could still have a clinging, wide, hopeful hope; When in the cell-deep of my home I could bend my discouraged, shipwrecked head In my sweetheart's balmy, cradling lap; When our beating heartbeats in the bantering Universe would blaze As they would be reconciled together, and the Past would hold easy, useful trophies, Or secrets of prey! Even if the pieces of Existence were exchanged in a chess-board order on the plane of our little lives, love as a sure point of exit for our restless hearts!


If I could have a comfortable, cushioned rocking-chair; I would be lulled by the pearly, truth-telling voice of my angel, As when she cellists in a spacious concert hall, In evening gowns of protection! I would open the ghastly-grimacing scars of my soul, and let its caressing, dandified kisses dangle the sins of my unworthy years of *******! In an embracing, romantic meeting, the holy birth-moment of Immortality might be found!


We would feel, in a time of distress, our musical heart-chalice throbbing together! With its roaring waves would sing tiny, secret echo-choes of autumn's Theiresias-walves above us: nor on steep Sisyphus-paths would we give Fate her rightful sanction to give up the goal, and feel ourselves smaller! Nor should we now, in the foreseeable world, necessarily distress ourselves as two orphaned children!


It would be a fabulous, dreamy consolation, a true, priceless treasure-gift, if we could see together, in the sacred sparks of cherishing halo-eyes, the happy-sadness of our late childhood, and cease all petty anxiety at the sneaking portents of the Coming!

I no longer care about fashion because of old-fashioned flavours! Rid yourself of your newfound susceptibility to new fashions, who cares only for the telltale signs of appearances! The reconciliation of interests may soon suffer from a difference of tastes! What does the exceptionalist trend mean?! Have we stopped noticing others simply by their dress code, so that we can mix with the sophisticated, elegant elite?

The Acts and the Sacrifices are thus placed together, in a conspiracy, in a pretended stalemate, for fear of what the patrician public would say if many of them showed their teeth! - And if the superficiality of the health-obsessed, all-embracing superficiality is enough to make you very nervous; it might be a problem-solver to try to see the exceptional One among many like him! In the glass of curved mirrors, even difference looks different!

In penultimate glances, can the Good Friends of Faith be recognised?! Gyugyok and Timotheus Tikitakik?! - Already in every respect there lurks silently the cold rejection withheld; a conceited misunderstanding cleaves their heads and may yet keep them in cage-captivity! An imperial rank of impossible dreams, that someday Someone or Something will do without them all! Even now some conscious distrust is spreading among them!

More interesting has become every cheap-fangled sensationalist Celebrity-pilot; peaceful at-home sit-at-home conversations with sticky masses of secrets, instead of messages from sinking airships!

Like a shipwrecked, he clings to unknown shores on the last soul, but he may never reach shore; my throat was hoarse silently many times and my voice continued to sound like a muffled sigh! As a rodent worm for my heart attack-stressed soul, the greedy and insatiable Compulsion settles like this! I would have to, even if I had to be selfish for myself, sure of Man
 
survive! The haunting moonlight tattoos my face like shards of silent shadows! And while you ask, asking with jagged tentacle teeth useless, "What happened to you?!" "The sure answer will be written on the trenches of my wounded Face if the glass bead of True Beads trembles again in my soul!"
 
My broken body guards the burdens of tough-konokan and what many discover on me as a redemptive smile - Suffering! I feel like he is howling every day with the intention of squeezing my muscles, numbing Nirvana-Dark, erupting from the depths of Executioner of times! I am already struggling with selfish, selfish pride: how could the man-trying burdens of this Being be better solved?! Suicide - if there was one - didn't even hit a wooden stick! I cling to the consoling-hopeful shreds of blissful days like this; I stare terribly at the Report with trembling blood-eyes! The Nobody's House, which slowly frees me from everything and deliberately lootes it!
 
Wandering, fast stigma-Souls are plagued by coding, vile evenings: it would be good to unravel the chains of my ominous pains to be redeemed - I listen in the present pregnant fog of the bottomless cavity of Time that it gapes Damocles executioners.