Departing life-time
Doubt lurks behind Time in an infected, alamussy school, the last hope behind a gray toothless tooth, because the syrupy reality pinged from the cards of daydreams is often, stubbornly deceptive.
Self-delusion has become a pious offense, if only unknown loneliness can be a person's only companion. Balance can only rarely unfold, like a palm. Even the appearance of survivability could be reduced to a cheaply inflated, false password.
How dead-ended were all the yew-flowered hopes. The total lack of your measured human face is always reflected in your everyday life. With fragmentary articulations, the past testifies and answers at the same time. If you do something wrong, he scolds you and warns you. You couldn't be a diamond knockback for a long time, neither in flesh nor in cells.
Time is simultaneously registered to the nervous self. Space and memory break down into unlearnable reflex movements. They were all hurt by their...
THE LAST POLYHISTOR
He accepted our last, finite meeting - it's safe to say - quite calmly. He tried to adopt a very partner-scientist voice and restrained relativity - at least - while he could do it as a Human on the barrier. Only his eternally furrowed, black eyebrows twitched and pulled up, as if they were ancient, antique shutters, when he heard the news that as a necessary solution I had to drop out of the adoration, but corrupt-cursed Hungarian major to the core.
At a chance and perhaps more suitable moment, it was as if a lost, tiny bug had flown into his flaming button eyes, burning forever on fire; he began to wipe his marked, Roman face furiously, as if he wanted to protest, resist, oppose instead of me; unusual for our teacher-student discussion - so sacred as if it had finally been torn apart under a cloud of smoke.
In his eternally restless, scholarly Polyhistor brain, he photographed not only the crumbs of knowledge that could be absorbed from boo...
STILL IN A WIND STORM
The sky is now still crystal balls, and the holy silence and humility of flowers correspond to it. Yellow lilies are replaced by hyacinths, where killer wasps and innocent bees swarm on pollen stirred up in tiny boats. Icarus suddenly gallops out of the shining Cyclops sun; with his broken wax wing, he would still try to keep himself in the air, but the worsening gravity would immediately crush him under it. It will almost certainly be the only, warning example of the lasting moment before the fall.
The total derailment of railway stations, when it is no longer necessary to search for petty criminals or those responsible. Come on, why?! Because the inner trembling of the human soul is hardly visible to the naked eye. On the faces, you can feel the deliberate phlegmatic indifference of Central and Eastern Europe. A pint of memory - I'm sure - is not enough if anyone is to finally understand the deliberately overcomplicated Gordian knot connections; the ...
A profane reflection
I wonder what it will be like in the future, standing in the ring of what can be called polite handshakes believed to be respected, among the profane self-seeking attempts, groping glances, when everyone already thinks they can do whatever they want. While the inner soul sheds its rain-smelling crocodile tears and finally moves out of this earthly existence?!
After repeated compliments, the sole, insidious goal of which is the all-encompassing bed scene, the unconditional culmination of Everything. Even the golden and heroic ages - if they existed - are exalted only out of habit.
Among the raging daily grind and inhuman hunger wages, what will the miserable life of forty-year-olds, which they tried to scrape together for themselves, be like one day?! – What kind of cast will there be among the familiar faces?!
Again and again, everyone repeats the pathetic dog comedy around themselves for their own petty and hypocritical amus...
DO SOMETHING MOVEMENT
Action without fail
The election 2024 is the detail
Spread the word
Let your voice be heard
Encourage people to vote
This is not a joke
Critical and Important
Talk to people where ever you go
If they are not registered to vote, please them to do so
Key word is REGISTER
Fulfillment Gesture
Urgent request
Don’t settle and digest
Our Democracy depends on it
America must be fit
We the people of America are it
America is depending on us
Let’s don’t disappoint
Vote with your heart and k...
EMPTY PALM
Because sooner or later, someone always returns to the houses. No one can yet know whether it is the betrayed husband, or the bohemian lover who holds a grudge, the diva lady who tries to hide her own girlish confusion by pretending to be a superficial, hysterical canary. So many questions and answers, to which we can rarely find proper, logical answers. -
The self-destruction that is so envied by many in the intoxication of LSD or ecstasy, in the usual psycho-warfare, when the manipulation is no more than a transparent and definable chess game played by two competing parties, there are wild jerks who just like that fight with stone axes , and they fight, just like their hairy-backed ancestors did a million and one millennia ago.
The gravity of the Universe sooner or later pulls everyone along and pulls them down. Because everyone is locked in a lowly cage of minimums and pitiful deadlines, so that they can languish for a lifetime between the pri...
ALLEY THIRST
Here, through the deserted city of Nineveh, a fierce dogfight is creeping along, as if someone had slapped the back of the head or slapped the back of the head; even the locked gates are all snug against squat, dark walls unnoticed. Their glued windows do not let through the mirror tiles of the broken amber-light shards that are about to penetrate. Like angry business sharks, they regularly break the systems of business life, as well as their own, almost tyrannical, greedy rules of the game.
The squandering, seething train station is already wearing away the disgraced silence, while one or two divers slowly emerge from the watery caves of the distance. In the street, a few drunken siheder-jampec-looking people are wandering around, hesitantly clinging to each other; who knows Then they were able to return home from the disco, and while one of them was doing a ritual dance, the fifth was lying in his own share. The crouching patch of shadow, which I wear on...
SWAP-SWAP
If I were to exchange my fate, the deserved, eternal love would wait patiently and faithfully for me. In the golden, soft sand of the seashore, I could write the eternal name of the One who bewitched me and then enslaved my wretched wounded heart.
On the bloody canvases of twilight, under a red dragon sky, only the two of us could exist. The undulating dance of waves and the beating heart would sing to the echoes of immortal romances. All our flesh and things would now be permeated by the longing spleen.
Alas, that everything that seemed carved in stone for centuries has already disappeared. If there was someone left, I wouldn't hesitate, I would fight for him. I would run over obstacles and barriers with the defiance of a lion.
If I were to exchange my fate, an angelic little princess with flaxen-blonde hair, or a straight-haired boy would come towards me on mini-shoes happily, and I would know: even if it was big or wasteful,...
NEGOTIATED STAIRCASE
The stairs of Life, fought and negotiated. Now they are moving away from me at an accelerating pace, as if they don't want to provide a safe way out themselves, but would rather swallow me right away... The degrees, as if they already functioned like fulfilling prophecies, and only what Fate decreed mattered; in the spacious tunnel-like nook, the meters pass faster than when the common man becomes claustrophobic on purpose and suddenly falls into a selfish, tyrannical catatonia.
- I always forget that the surface would beckon me, just like a lovely bohemian lover who professed that he loved me more than anything else, because he believed it. Life's great moments - it might seem - are irreproducibly worn by repetitions. For now, you should learn the over-assured transitions and rather vibrate with the suffocating forebodings while you still can. The general exchange of cells every seven years is just a diminution, but this may make us remain the sam...
CRIMINAL MESSAGES
Sooner or later, everyone tends to lose themselves in the juvenile social system; first it's just pacifiers, then chocolates, and finally it's after profit. He urinates in garbage containers that smell of garbage because the janitors were fired, and as a teenager he still goes to football games to brawl and brawl like some idiot sheep-gorilla. He obediently walks after others for double pats on the cheek.
Sooner or later, everyone is bugged in one way or another - mostly digitally, in the manner of petty cyber-fanatics. In this way, they also receive the daily ritual head washing that comes with the milk portion. Nowadays, they are simultaneously treated, de-treated, or just medicated. The self-forgetful moment, as a kind of deliberately indifferent, in-between moment, proliferates and breeds, because basically the tunya tries to feed itself from the boredom of life and to reinvent itself.
Even Existence becomes unreal if there is nothing...