INTROVERTED SUMMARY

The mill of the indoor world grinds on in a splintering, indoor silence. How much longer can your cardiovascular valves hold out with clicking diligence? Why, that in the exodus of creatures, the mortals who have the right of insight have no more words! - In countdown standby, first arrhythmic echo-disturbances, then cryptic Morse code signals, to finally bring the whole rotating orbit down and to a halt with a bomb-thumping clatter. 

Your grotesque-faced reflections mock them all; you cannot seep through to the stubborn soul to see, and there be assuredly endear yourself! Who can endure with thy observation stuck in thy throat? In the market-place of life, the orphaned wretches are squeezed out by the kilo - and you know they start with you. In the height of absurd follies that cannot be allowed, everyone can howl but you! Thy special jewel, if thou hadst any, is now a paltry trash. 

To see quartz in the depths of curved mirrors is still possible. At the bottom of every problem, every Tett-Akarat seems to lurk like a sneaking blur. In alley streets long since flooded with word-senses, dense wolf howls send a message to the people: where once light-hearted friendly conversation and café discussions might have exchanged hands, now the karate-straddling souls of sinful kofas in stinking word-monsters are drifting in a vulgar, vulgar, stray mother tongue. 

Teenage mothers suckle their babies for incubator-prisons on wild-ordid, vulnerable-prostituted bacchanalia that last until dawn! - Shivering with mad mass ecstasies, you long for someone from outside to help you free yourself and give you the rest of the free air!