UNKNOWN FORMULAS

I should move into an interior room, my furniture will be smaller from now on. You have to change to a different way of life, a different scale will now be your turn. From now on, you will only do laundry once every few months, because Persil has run out, or it has become prohibitively expensive. Because they dig in without pulling out. Little job, little income. I'm sure it's getting smaller and smaller.

You nestle yourself, there is no fairy tale, anywhere. It feathers, looks around, and then adapts. Even if he didn't want this nest, he didn't even come here on his own, but his emotions dragged him here on a rope and in handcuffs. Shame.

What would it be like to die wasted in a small country of cages?! Anyone who has had this will understand immediately. Narrow and dark, without comfort, cell-deep. The wall is cracked, the ceiling is starry. What if our flights are tight? If you can't even fit big or small people, hessian-middleman, money-man-villain anymore?! As if you could get used to everything organically?! Heavy desires push him far away, a sane fear in a frightened wanderer?!

The rats are still swarming under the Erzsébet Bridge, gnawing and biting each other and as if some engrossed gambler or chess master is performing a tightrope dance over a dubious draughty chasm... are the impossible things in our lives the most attractive? The desert of our tomorrow is getting closer.