DEEP POINTS

To wash out of this pathetic world with impunity: come on?! You don't even notice it, and you carry with you heavy chains-tons of Sisyphus ringing every day, which first devour your organs, and then perhaps even Alzheimer's-bearing thoughts.

The merry sailors and party queens of the easy-going life may never understand why it is so difficult to hand-write and post yellow checks instead of quoting the plethora of transactions on the internet. Your truths, like the prickly pots of mirrors, are scattered, even against the wind, - now it would be better to be a hermit, up on the bald mountaintop, where the bird may not walk. From there, look down on the self-prostitute, evil Age, which for a decade has been infecting, destroying, and profiting at its own expense. Eyes closed, feeling to listen and listen. Why do you have to, like a pathetic wombat or a blind mole, dig in the damp tunnels of existence, push, and mend?!

It is as if the great, irrevocable revelation has already been revealed to you; you may feel that you must deceive everyone to get away with it, to survive the evil tomorrow. Your anger cannot absolve anyone but the victims, if they really prove to be!

A hangman's noose is slowly stretched at your throat, and the croaking princes of the night will cynically laugh at how you could be such an idiot that you could not see the grotesque-nonsense, absurd, easily collapsing houses of cards of real reality, which are abundantly enough with a single light blow.