WITH SELFISH SELF-IRONY

A fickle gloom moves, half-way between the stones it stirs; even the complex sounds seem to want to flow apart, first only in your hands, later in the windings of your brain and in your thoughts. A bewitched shadow regularly disappears and then comes back into your life, and you still don't know; was it your fault when you confessed what your wounded heart is tormenting, just like a bewildered Romeo, or was he the one who betrayed your feelings, your unshakable faith in the immortal All?!

 - You feel that, like someone who deliberately hid in a straitjacket snail shell, or is currently hiding, you have to survive tomorrow without everyone. "Stop!" Stay by my side even when everyone else has left you long ago!" - you ask someone you have known for a long time, to whom you would have willingly and truly shown the keys to your heart that started to rust, but you already feel that you have been betrayed, deceived by false promises that want to lie, and therefore you're more of a deliberate hermit-career, who would rather spend the whole day lying flat in your cave-nook than trying to live your own life more fully.

So you're standing in your own right now, a little stuck, rootless, shipwrecked and sinking, and you can't understand where the idyllic decades could have gone so quickly?!  - Alamuszi-sunyi, your petty little secrets - he is afraid - neither tears, nor satisfaction, nor mercy can solve them. You cherish more and more phosphorescent spells, just in case they take pity on you, and you can even be a curious sensation in the greedy and curious eyes of one or two human-offspring, for barely five minutes at most. 

You can easily find out about yourself if you had time, you just wanted to love and be loved, and while your years came and went, multiplying the number of your troubles and problems, you always tried to be different than the era expected or just dictated!