The past and the future dissolve in my eyes, it is a burned letter in my hands. My feet don't hold me, but I can't even fall to the ground.
I'm exhausted, but I can't carry such an ecstatic spirit inside me anymore, it's not just living, it's consuming me.
My body became a prisoner planning his escape. I'm not giving justice to that poor guy.
If his plan comes true, I will die at the same time. Because that road that will lead my body to freedom is also my end.
Again.
I'm not afraid. Don't get me wrong. Life has always been a struggle. It's always a mess. It wasn't the desire to survive, it was actually the desire to rest of a soul that connected me to life and that was not even ready to die.
That's why I hid behind sullen expressions. That's why I fought my pathetic self every time I looked in the mirror. It was me, and I blessed myself from head to toe with those cursing, unspeakable dirty sentences.
But I forgot.
If you bless with God's forbidden words, you will never be able to lay yourself in his bosom. You will remain in the middle of the world like a standing stone, longing to die even.
Now I deceive myself in the middle of this desolate field where I am stuck. At least it's my favorite place for scavengers.
No matter how hard I try to explain, I know I'm trying in vain.
If he understands me, a scarecrow will. If there is a scarecrow among you, please raise your hand.