THE CURRENT OUTSIDER IN BUDAPEST

This city is a stranger to me! And I was born here once! During the day, my sore throat is stung by the exhaust fumes and the obscene, obscene human speech, while at night, my eyes are ruined by the twisted, pale light. A faltering soul, confined within the walls of a murderous labyrinth, watches over me, and sometimes whispers its answer: "Take care, for no one else will."

Daily I am forced to throw over my shoulders the gaudy purse of this wicked city of Nineveh, while my slithering, stumbling, miserable Sisyphusian feet are constantly bumping into obstacles. I have great wanderings to resolve, but there is always something missing from the whole: adequate wages, financial resources, or human, derailed relationships - at the foot of echoing, echoing crags, perhaps I'd better hesitate-perhaps I'd rather stop and go backwards myself.

I am greeted by a crowded serpentine of caravans on a pot-faced highway: suddenly almost everything in the world has become so terribly urgent that there is not enough time left for each other. And though my ever restless Odyssean heart whispers, "Come on! Come on! Go! Go and see what the world looks like abroad" - My mind is always warning me, and would rather admonish me. A city full of people is now producing more vile celebrities and producing automatic assembly-line shows and while one by one we are being gnawed by the great Misery, others can be content with themselves!

With black teeth, wounds gnaw day by day, and while yellow lightning wails out into the square decorated with energy drink bottles and graphite, I shake my unmeasured fists up to the cosmic stars...