STONE-BOARD

The hours have long since run out... so greedily, and perhaps viscerally never before, he gobbled up the victims and prisoners of Time with a brutally cruel grin, as if he could already know when, where, what was coming. We no longer dare to look each other in the honest eyes for fear of the even more absolute, predictable consequences of absolute Truth.

Perhaps I have never felt so much that I could lose anyone around me at any time. I could say: I'm already totally tired, melancholy and fed up with everything in a short journey, - but now heavy plans are strangling my heart, because survival of the day is now the pathetically insidious game of cat and mouse. I know well: it would be easier to liquidate or sell everything, and to lie down in the calm of the shore like peaceful fishermen in andalusian silence; but he who is always struggling with the nasty pain of his restlessness, his not-quite-contracting, never finds it easy to give up.

Many times I still implore the curious, playful child breathing in me: "Never give in! But this sleepy, big child can still cry a lot, perhaps there is hardly anyone to comfort him. Here I stand, hesitating, at the age of forty, Turning inward and opposing the Executioner-Deities, And a stronger tragedy of fate May even now lightly strike me down!