SOCIAL SOUL-LARVAE

The thoughtful, aloof, apparently serious, but actually a clown-joke, self-returning look, which disarmingly, bewitchingly, first bewitches and then disarms the defenseless, child-minded Man in the forest of sweeping eyelashes, so that conscious romantic emotions can then turn into the sure Allness; pulsating, vulnerable, untranslated presence, that's why we should still cling to it with tooth and nail, how can it hold!

The tense trembling of repressed treacherous movements, the unspeakable pounding of heart-goblets, when all lies have definitively and irreversibly ceased; the honey-glazed quarter-sweet alchemy of words, since there is no need for that. The summer evening falls with silent dignity on silent, projected crystal grids, and like two human bodies rocking on each other - Being, like the crawling, commuting ivy, would hold on, crawl towards something more tangible, something more provable.

- Now it is intentional isolation that still threatens the individual, who may know that it would be worthwhile to prosper as part of a community, even if he does not. No one can see the emerging Future, or only very exceptional "chosen ones" who made a compromise early on, sold themselves, and now they are still with it, in the spirit of "just in case", they want to profit from anything.

- Even the Soul is retreating from History, not only man, who settled into some mysterious survival mode; the ancient accusation of certainty is still nagging, but it has nowhere to run. The Executioner-Time executes a final reckoning, just like Lator of Sehonna, who has been appointed as a few friends; don't be careful - but you rob and waste on purpose. XXI. - in the social jelly of the 20th century, Soul-larvae should no longer remain!