WITH STRIGULATED EMOTIONS

As an insignificant speck of dust, we are drawn into the annihilating, Executioner's Time, whose physical manifestation we can only know. The minutes would cling to the cohesion of the organs, tissues and molecules with web-strings - it's true - even abundantly and persistently, saying; if the blood vessels carrying oxygen reach their destination, the atria of the secret chambers of the heart, existence does not seem so impossible, so complicated. The binoculars or the exploration of the spiritual paths are in vain: those who could only have been a prisoner inside, thrive outside with ever more adversity.

Yorick, a swinging fool, who caresses the mortal skull one last time, until he realizes that he has no speaking tongue left to utter the words. Infinite and yet Finite in Man's insignificance, he can also feel himself; a table party of five ladies, banal childhood killer jokes, while one party - usually - the more vulnerable one in each case is offended, and later the test of friendship fails because of this.

- It would be easier for me if the members of that lady's crown would rather see the One-Essence that rumbles in me with the eyes of Theresias; that I went through a Calvary-Odyssey for a long time and became an embittered, often unnecessary cynic. The alleviating peace of non-existence is now waiting patiently, we don't know how long?! Withered promises, any kind of solid construction seems impossible. In the era of hated initiations, I wanted to withdraw, because maybe I was the only one who could believe: it could be otherwise! The pain turned into slowly trickling tears, just like the humiliation. What is the point of burning the remaining lifeguard bridges?!