It has now begun to be a passing malaise, to be punished for everything, except for one's own faults, when not only things, melancholy objects, but also calculating and suspicious glances behind the back of the defenseless, vulnerable person, who is - usually - left alone to a sufficient extent, look at each other like silent accomplices. They dig their wildcat claws into the skin, saying: "Let it hurt, just calmly!"

- That is why the majority can gradually come to like totally catastrophic circumstances at any time. A single happy self-forgetfulness, self-deception, self-deception is now just enough for a person to compromise at any time or to perform a ritualistic Turn of the Way; carrion flies, petty thugs peck at their pleasure, spitting on the germs of a more livable life that yearns for order. Is every path both anger and humility?! Halfway between the two, a mirage of speech that has neither ears nor tail.

Guided by the weight of memories, and then burned, it would still be good to cling to the echoes of encrypted heartbeats, which comfortingly alleviate the apocalyptic ominous omens of sadness. Every phantom pain is also a trench dug with us also; the taste of sleepless nights among the rusting gears of the brain, wondering if Someone would still pay attention; a futile squirrel circling in a chained labyrinth, from which there is no and can no longer be a way out anywhere.

– The embankment road is constantly closed; sometimes due to flooding, sometimes due to noise! Anyway, it leads to underworld filth and filth. All unnecessary alarms and cries were a false alarm, let the neglected anger and injured self-consciousness wear away quite calmly on the sunken, slightly eternally childish face.