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    The days are graying again and the milk is being taken into the fog! Man must lie on a panther night and run after work as a bitter breadwinner! – Many would not believe, s imagine – how monotonous and monotonously infinite every little moment movement, a tiny human story, seems in the sour cream density of the dawns! 

    Many times the tears of pearls of the Son of Man – believe the galad s cudar world answers bitterly about it: “Why did you come to this earthly creation, because you don’t see, you’re just a surplus!” - S the creative man who wants to create in the paintings of imaginary dreams seems to be destroyed in a single moment-fragment, because he wanted to give birth again: the individual, and the valuable object complexes personally interpreted, and now he is forced to take a bitter account: I have to listen for a good few times - to discover with my redemptive death – later with renewed faith hope, and many can say happily: 

    ,,You didn't live in vain, you should have recognized you only in your existence! ” - You should appreciate the creative people of this year, for the breaking cracks in the unwavering Parnassus temple of culture already seem to be appearing and the relentless Gordian knots are multiplying in the micro-society of the vandalists - waiting for responsibility and understanding with mercy! 

    I should encourage and stubbornly believe that the bell of my half-naked and chatter-stumbling conscience will believe: Maybe one will change one day!

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