BLIND-WORLD

 Empty, white-spotted, Crystal-glassy transparent space. You're the snow-spotted world. But what else can one do? he sets out not to be overwhelmed by bitter pessimism: self-pity and laziness. I myself preachers gaping, loud throat when I weigh slowly a hundred pounds, and besides I am neither a macho nor Adonis:

 As a hedgehog, I will grow thorns on my soul, or I will be cast down by righteous despair! I still have a lot of work to do! The truth behind the lines of letters-my content silabbed to solve the riddles of the witnessing past, so that I can better understand what is going on inside: at the bottom of the present time!

 Because there can be no way to just suck and blow the air out like an idiot, and not to promote humanity, empathy, tolerance, and in many cases: Humor is the only medicine! The final, received rescue! But we cannot know anything about this, because we are not able to take note of the human lesson, the essence: if we are not aware of ourselves, the whole thing can no longer be worth anything, and yet something! Hesitantly the Flake-rose wanders from the clouds like Sooty cigarette smoke.

 In a relentless robot march, like a ploughshare frozen furrow, I plough the snow in front of me with my soaked boots, and I want to howl, scream, and scream – even when I was thirty years old – when I stepped foot into the unknown, slipped, and sat on my ass! How graciously all the merry friends waved goodbye, and then, as heart-changing Janus, look back once in a while: maybe! And again a little bit of life broke away from the many that can rarely be called whole: that I might see him again, it may be, after all, to hope is a good thing!

 I never let things happen defenseless: I was afraid of risks, of possible losses! - I'm still young! And yet in the mornings I feel that a stranger with rattling old man's bones, with a slight stubbornness, stares back at me stubbornly and boldly from the mirror!