EXISTENTIAL HEADACHE

  
 I feel like a shipwrecked wretch, a nobody. That's why I put on a mask to protect myself. Existence, and my life in it, still confesses one thing and another, while the bars built in my hardened inner self lock me in, - like innocent prisoners. Alarm bells are ringing at the gates of my aging, aging heart, for a just fear: no one could remain to save my life.

I must live my pleasures more slowly and sensibly, for so little of them, so poorly. My romance and my true tears are daily trampled or trampled underfoot. Weekdays of indifference stand a stern watch over me! - Whilst others fithlessly and frivolously live in the world, they cannot suspect that their everyday routine-uniformity can be jeopardized by change at any time, even daily. From under a web of uncertain opportunities, livelihoods and progress are increasingly precarious! 

It may be a fall from grace - to remain a human being in all circumstances amidst many sorrows and fiascos: murderous indifference or theatrical, influenced motives always win; one should not bury the moral and virtuous - but extend a certain hand as a helping goodwill. 

No one can be held responsible for the pleasures of purified food, of company-interested grudges. Like a man who has been beaten sick, the not too distant future seems like a fragment of bone. - We should not desecrate magic we thought lost, but look into the truths of superstitious, spell-bearing eyes and learn to thrive again!