FATE-CARVED

Tell me, my friend? What are you gonna do with the word debris now? The false pretense of promises you've had enough of now?! First you look at your empty life and then at your bare palm, which your beloved's hand will never touch again. Lines, intersecting planes of intersections, even known dimensions of Destiny are responsible for you. While your beating, stubborn heart lets you into the splinters of your line of life, you can follow it halfway and perhaps try to answer your eternal human questions: Why Have you been abandoned so soon? Why are you alone? Why didn't you go abroad when everyone moved there?!

- Now you are going back and forth to irregular geometric shapes and vestigial shapes, because only you, perhaps, can really know and honestly know yourself, no one else! You never wanted to take part in New chances, not only because you were really terrified of your deepening, pathetic failures and wondering what Petty-evil tongues whisper behind your back over and over again, and what you see out there is no longer just a living connection-but a deliberate manipulation of instincts and emotions.

In the speechless space, minute by minute, you are growing your petty little worms in the persistent habit of: you can't trust anyone! - And that's what poisons me daily with determination! You are dizzy and uncertain at the same time, the depths of experience cannot answer everything for you. The whole thing wants to break down into parts until it's completely alone!