INQUIRIES

I let the hanging-flower despair that settled on me dissipate in my circulation; staring dumbly in mirrors at the balding spots of the Time that was staring at me in the mirrors. Again the vault of memories that have happened draws me to the hell-hole of cellar-dwellers. Who knows whether the post office will bring the reward for a mutilated living wage without pension contributions in forty-nine years' time? - My blood is still circulating in a mass of masses of blood, even though the World has immediately forgotten about the welfare of those living close to the breadline. 

The futile and unnecessary developments have multiplied, which in every case end in sensations that are even brighter than the next day, and it may turn out that the understanding and observing Future is no longer even slightly tolerant and empathetic. - There are now few special, whimsical, absurd behaviors unworthy of Existence: cheating is worthwhile in any age, since it is done by those who are distinguished and decorated with prestigious medals and medals of merit, who believe that grand larceny is indeed honest! 

Every day is more futile in its ebb, flow, and compromise, and as there could be no truthfulness but the insidious straitjacket of trapped feelings - there can no longer be any sentence or commendation ever to be imposed for the righteous expression of opinion, for Morality as an act has been corrupted into a whore. And since every brainwashed embryo can only be a silently nodding ape - every mind brave enough to think, to act, can only remain free to be self-contained! As a sleepwalking zombie, there is little point in waking up from anything anyway!