TRANSPARENCY LENGTHS AND DEGREES

The broken glass of days gone by blooms on the branches of my pale ivy face; A mournful sadness combined with the ringing of bells settled on my heart like a feeling of spleen, and in some places it is squeezed by a condition close to a heart attack, and the ambulances are almost certainly thirty minutes late. Now I still have to look at the connections of my petty, Alamusi affairs from the inside; I wonder who betrayed whom? And who was the first to utter the sky-splitting sentence above my flabby head?!

I will be suspicious, cowardly and arrogant now, if I find that I have no chance, no opportunity, the permanent pain trembles between my teeth, like a creaking old door, because only I can know what is truly left of my childhood. Even during the day, my soul bleeds a lot from a lost, stray dream, I waded through a treasure rainbow that became a swamp every day with a child's head, and I never found out why it was useless?!

- Like the discarded Janusz mask, it is always only on the outside, and that too more and more authentically, more and more convincingly, so that those who are curious - hopefully - will never in this life get any mischievous suspicions. My hesitant steps deliberately deepen the trenches of Absence and Emptiness; because neither silence nor passing can preserve me now, and it is highly questionable whether there will be Someone who remembers what I was like as a Human Being?

A twisting sense of shame has not yet driven me out of the solitude of my four-wall prison, and it's even better that way, since there are no unexpected collisions or alternatives that could upset my schedule-based outlook on life. Even the minute-men are visible and painted with the fingerprints of the Age, and they fall away just like a multitude of leaves that have started to become easily forgotten rust...