THE ERA IS ON THE DAILY ORDER

To serve a decayed appearance Humbly and quietly, To sway day by day to the current of every little movement, To waver and fear ceaselessly, Tolerate why others have so much, while others pick alms from the trash can. The world is getting uglier, while - it may be - we are the only ones standing up as Get Up Johns. If we were blind, there is no forgiveness and we are lost without a trace.

Now it's as if the flapping wings of the Universe are standing in the pits of cesspools... The events continue, as a bloated ore-cock walks to the podium to preach, while the milk falls asleep in the mouth of the pedestrian of silence; I'm always a little afraid, like an arthropod before the sole that steps on me, as if I have to say something at the last moment; Instincts rush in with a twist and a flutter! Are we really just born to love?! Do we have to protect ourselves from all insults so that we don't get lost?!

Immortal loves and torments still pulsate inside us like electricity, The world's frown slowly freezes on its face: it moans like lust in death. It's as if our radar devices have detected the continuing alienation. Just as a person is pulled out of the tentacles of waking life by sleep, and then pulled back. Single-mindedness also stares at you with its flag flying and waits in ambush.

Masked and fear-sucked instincts are good for whom, who are they harming?! It's as if a person has no rest anywhere, except in the cemetery, so that I can be there, so that I can make laws for myself here instead of you - and doom.