PERSISTENT ROTTING

As the days rush by, I feel as if a sea of fog is rolling over me, the sinister world of sanda-sunyi is coming closer and closer. If I stay on the ground a little longer, I'm already at the point where - perhaps - there's no more.

As the flattening, sickly heart beats inside me, threatening me with a heart attack, and I am often left out of the decreed Fate-plans by the over-tired Tomorrows, I suddenly shake myself and retreat into my mole-ridden cavity.

As now everything and everyone is give-and-take, do-or-die, and no one would care that the brainwashed reason is running to its selfish, idiotic doom, while the dumbed-down intellect is only an extra, and the peak is when everyone can disguise himself and become a Celeb.

As it all seeps through me, like a stinking sewer or manure, and I keep getting caught up in the camp of lying giddies who don't want to help or improve the situation, but deliberately worm their way into the situation and even hinder it. I get devil cramps!

As everything has lost its meaning and value long enough ago, and the place of cultures that can only reach out of the tube, screen and matrix spiral of cyber-networks is taken by the conscious mind-boggling absurd grotesque, which by default dwarfs the unfortunate, unlucky little man and his fellows. Just as daily disappearances of the nothing-to-do Josef Kak, Akaki Akakiyeviches! As all living and inanimate have become opportunistic in the lie of survival!