Now there are still different Columbuses, because the motto is not always: "Keep it quiet for the West!" - not everything is on the other side of the Pacific Ocean, but it is still enough for a more livable life, about twenty or thirty light years away. Because the deepening labyrinth-pits that we can dig ourselves, rent, have become more and more common; on the waves of stock market prices, the killer predatory leech-fish, the sharks are increasingly winning, even if they have to play Russian roulette with themselves, in this way they gamble a little.

And it is increasingly the case that it is no longer the noon bell that precisely signals the end of a given job - but the summit meetings that last up to thirty-six hours, meaningless business conferences, where foreign creditors must be honeyed and glazed, to convince them with ***-licking, why they should invest their money in us. Instead of flesh-and-blood people, they ask for a mechanized Pinocchio for a meeting.

And if we take it that way, even in the dating situation, it is increasingly embarrassing for the majority of divas who are plasticized as teenagers when some average little man keeps complimenting them and comes up with the laws of the Universe. Instead of Grimm's fairy tales, today's modern children stare at reality show news on their Tablets, because how could they have learned who the evil, ugly witch is and who the good house fairy is?! Thus deporting contemporary literary cultures.

- It is increasingly noticeable that vandals and Suleimans have become more ambitious and greedy, just like the deceitful demagogues who usurp each other's thrones at the carnival of the modern nuclear age. Banking truths are fierce its hooves are pounding on the necks of increasingly oppressed creditors.

Time, believed to be infinite, can still turn like a dagger in the hearts, like a silent state close to infarction. The suffering of the fleeting, earthly life will eventually return to itself; every remaining memory bursts out like a drowning man in the throat, because the soul can only stammer hesitantly. Idle, fettered patience still urges its victims not to rest, but rather to action.

Hidden rays of sunlight remain here from the lost Summer, because as a curious wanderer of extremes, although man falls to the ground, he still goes on and on, as long as his edematous, water-soaked lame legs can hold him; because now they are trampling even more and more furiously – if necessary, if not – value, good friends, helpful intentions, if that is what is needed to impress superficial strangers.

The crystal-clear presence that cuts through waking life with a scalpel still drags me into the grip of uncertain tomorrows; your neck on a leash, like some godless noose from which there is rarely any sure escape, neither near nor saving grace will let you go. You stumble as long as you can, one foot after the other, like a chronic drunk homeless person, and you cannot understand that in the mole tunnels of the subway, when a threatening snaking train screams, will there be anyone who will provide first aid, while the emergency services are often thirty minutes late?!

Like leeches, these superficial, self-serving celebrity faces; there is no one who would not burrow beneath the surface, manipulate their bitterly collected digital followers, so that they can even make pretend friendships as a pretense for the sake of a sweet post.