http://slow.writerscafe.org/Tasi83 The original writings of author Tasi83 en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775249918 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15  Man would now hold the uncertain Infinity between his clenched tiger teeth, gnashing his teeth; heavenly powers have not yet decided his fate, whether he will remain a plucked baby bird or an orphan Robinson Crusoe. Viper nests are now home to hissing, rubbed snakes that can be manipulate.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3131018/  The desire for self-assertion tightens like an ever-tightening coat on a person; exhibitionist, superficial movements, like the stomachs of starving dogs, quickly tear apart the star-like subspaces of minute-human Celebrities. It is as if conscious selection were immediately carried out in a s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3130771/  A watchful rot crept in the lap of the streets; the infected darkness reeked from the caves of the pitch-black night. Longing palms stretched out on bars ask for alms-money daily wages in exchange, they are interrogated daily by crouching lacks. Because even in the Soul - sooner or later - a w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3130594/ The steps of existence should also diminish at a steady pace, once one has used them; it would be nice to get out of the narrow spaces of mole tunnels and into the open near the surface. The over-secured transition is hardly felt, because there is never enough time for it. Closed satisfactions,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3130450/  Because the wear marks of the increasingly narrowing solidification of Beginnings and Ends, the ever-decaying petty movements, the petty, cheap little suspicions, as if the disappearance of mortality were an increasingly obvious fact; because if they can barely know anything about someone, it'.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3130287/  Even if the empty promise is still whispering, with a sly, sly desire, a false promise in the courtyard of outstretched handshakes or words, because meaningless, gouty wills have also been boasting in ostentatious, haughty actions. The company of Pilates who wash their hands has increased.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3129954/  Unanswered complex questions and answers wander in the human soul incessantly; conscious uncertainty is not always a helpful refuge. Even the mosaics that seem innocent - sooner or later - will only be put together. It is as if the promises, rumors, and moments that can be experienced as gifts.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3129717/  Others have long been building with a petty desire the Tower of Babel of their imported-smelling idealism, which will soon - perhaps - fall anyway; the wind brings the acrid smell of a foreign yeast mixture, if necessary, if not. In the secret labyrinths of large chemical kitchens, the elixir .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3129513/  Eternal deficiency, like a misunderstood, silent decoration, clings to a person's skin; intentions strain against each other over the chances of survival; he melancholy resigns himself to the permanent vulnerability of the expected and the unexpected, because he can hardly do anything else.&nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3129335/  One cannot rest on mere, trivial details and secrets; zeal fuels one until goal and will meet. The failure or success that promises from close quarters can turn into contradictions at any time if the planned fulfillment cannot be realized on one's side. Incomprehensible blind Lacks often bind .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3129133/  Every day, the distance between us, measurable even with the soul, seems to be getting smaller. We would move with slowed-down restraint through the heavy treadmills of Existence, lest we be permanently crushed by mere chance. Laws and human attitudes are sinking and rising at the same time, d.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3128767/  Among the gears of the deliberately reduced intellect - still halfway - there may be a tiny little secret floating around; which man is still dying out on his own, although the World would constantly demand that he stay alert. There is still a long way to irreducibility. The strings of common .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3128595/  It would climb up again, while it eternally explains excuses for the necessity of action and action. It would only be two in the morning. The black veil of the crumpled night would completely envelop me, I would restlessly search for a possible way out. But the secret echoes also beckon a naus.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3128408/  In the sacred foreground of silent starbursts, the night murmurs, marches, then scurries; packs of rabid, barking dogs chase the cheese-smelling moonlight. The night street bends, as if a perilous human existence is under the weight of trials. Hidden in the pockets of a winter coat buttoned in.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3128242/  It's not a problem if you see me covered in crocodile tears; I carry the weight of my sins like a pillar, like heavy millstones. You don't have to feel sorry for me, although it would be good - of course only sometimes - for you to pull me up from the depths of the bottomless gaping pits towar.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3128091/  The iron claws of infinite Time will one day unexpectedly settle on the outskirts of the alley-smelling city, where perhaps not even the dog walks, and like a man who is languishing in a mania for pursuit, he must constantly look back to avoid being shot down. No matter how much they spin the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3127884/ Things, friends, memories, and objects drift away from us, and the only thing that matters is the growing sense of loss. There is no need to cling to motionless, seemingly unattainable eternities if there is no one with whom to share one's inner spiritual harmony. Small-minded, fleeting, cheap succe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3127677/  It would be good to let go of everything now. The unnecessary has become too loose; the shackles of memory, faces, padlocks. As if some inner intangibility were always chasing a person. It is known: human relationships, the consolations of being in love, the implications of relationships, whic.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3127536/  Like a thrown billiard ball, the city's day-long sacred chaos is thrown from street to street across the street; the chirping grandmotherly chaos of women carrying plastic bags, the howling of stray dogs, which splits the stale, musty air. While some homeless people are rummaging through smell.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3127377/  Flowing mosaics cut themselves, while the feigned, lazy indifference and hypocritical extravagance are resting more and more; who knows whether the truer captivity, imposed on man by some cunning plot, intrigue, or simply the deliberately forgotten cipher of each prisoner himself, was built of.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3127175/  Because they had all used up their arguments; they had sailed unconsciously for a long time in the moving waters of life, when aching, ambiguous doubts were deliberately turned against them. In troubled eyes, suspicious doubt struck home. Those who don't bargain couldn't even give a servant a .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3126950/  The weak man has long since tumbled out of the basket of dreams; through hissing visions, like blood vessels pulsating in a wall. Because - he would rarely admit it to himself - it would be good to finally rise above the ordinary, weak logic, to the abandoned, barren-smelling shores, beyond th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3126770/  Devils and saints who had endured both heaven and prison looked around in a little wakefulness; the soul can now - in any case -, fly away, even on mouse paths, into death flirting with redemption. Here, it seems as if all construction and grounding are now dismantling themselves, but no one i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3126609/   A wild, persistent, dull rumbling in the head, as if the average person were forced to travel through uncharted realms on untrodden paths. The landscape of childhood that had sailed away could no longer be his, because the frozen, inviting swamp world of memories unexpectedly and suddenl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3126355/  Increasingly, the muddy, vague environment, the uncertainly sliding walls can unexpectedly grow on one's head, and even suck it in; promises that have become shapeless, in the small-style nets of swirling labyrinth-spirals, like a tadpole population struggling on the bottom of the sea, because.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3126174/  From the roar of mercy, I could find a few more good friends; stray, lost dogs whine in the depths of alleys. It would be good if a guardian angel could protect me from troubles as an invisible protective vest. Vile ages, decades that have become unworthy - even so - will outlive me. Holding h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3125978/  The limping Future is almost unmarked; petty troubles and troubles, dangers swallowed up by cares, are bustling here and there with petty pleasure, because consolations gathered in distorted indifference are not sure to help a person through the pits of supposed-real difficulties. Even so, som.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3125711/  At milk-can dawns, the robot work starts up, but it does not accelerate. In the silent blind mirrors of houses, the morning still combs its golden honey hair; step by step, it seems as if everything and everyone is moving backwards and not only forwards. Because man has been forced to make dea.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3125477/  I know well all the petty filth of the once Nineveh-smelling city; walls and gates have long since stopped shaking hands with me, neither arches nor rows of houses turn their faces towards me. In the early morning robot, I still trudge along like a slug, one or two articulated buses, while gos.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3125275/  We are now lulled to sleep by our helpless, insurmountable, finite Executioner-Time. You guessed it: the gruesome price of our mortality is no longer available and cannot be exchanged for anything. Because nowadays it is either a blow or a torturous arrogance that would rather trample on other.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3124987/  Now is the time for constant strategic tactics; stealing, betraying, or even selling accomplices. On the other hand, comes the visceral position, which is only the privilege of "some". Now, those who are incompatible, rebellious, seem to be deliberately trampled on, trampled not only by the ex.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3124754/  Our tangled, numb soul still floats untangleable - but be careful, it may not be for that long. In the prison cage of our ribs, the heart beats unstoppably, struggling, as if we had to endure the intermediate relationships on the border between sleep and wakefulness in a half-sleep, in a hiber.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3124589/  Does everyone's heart have to be a looted treasure house?! They stretch out their miserable hands: they would still beg to survive. Because now it means being an outcast and tolerated stranger, those who have everything, often get Everything. More and more people are eager for what can be furt.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3124420/  The walls that didn't remain - I feel - still guard, hold back. Subsidiarity or nothingness is now so common. No amount of frivolity can quench thirst, which like glue sooner or later sticks to a person's skin, nestling itself in it. An eternally drawn border stands hesitantly in the depths of.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3124275/  Many, many bitter curses, scattered by thieves - if one is not careful - will consume one. Every spoken word, deed, will, and movement will hurt one, like a shard of broken glass. Today, everything and everyone is suspicious; yet I cannot believe that they sincerely and completely want it. Fat.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3124083/  The birds, too, sooner or later, all detach themselves from the vibrating winds; only their aged, old bones tremble aimlessly. Because the wind - in many cases - inhabits the countryside unnoticed. Even on the edge of the solstice, one wonders: do birds consciously migrate, do they migrate?! E.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3123858/  A little half-heartedly, we still regularly keep an eye on the people around us who are examining us; an inner, restless suspicion crucifies the trust we have with honesty in us. The gauntlet of basic principles is always thrown away by someone and you never know who will pick it up. Today, th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3123682/  There can't be much chance against gold spits engraved in a table of chewing gum; knocking sleeps in so many door handles that are already closed. Perhaps even trust and unconditional humility have been excluded, because they couldn't be allowed to prevail. Souls are being shorn of their bare .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3123404/  Life, with its unpredictable flow, has just stopped at your feet; halfway between two inward bounding infinities - you would hardly admit it to yourself - you have been stuck for a long time, like someone suffering from pathological constipation. You stand in its crowded No Man's Land and you .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3122446/  The seemingly crowded nerve poisons of everyday life seem to be gradually drumming in the molehills of your hearing ear; you don't even notice how your sweaty palms feel for the rusting keys of the memory crumbs of your past. You cherish the hard-to-bear laundry of your days in your depraved h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3122225/  Some remaining, unfinished feelings still linger on the shores of restless, storm-beaten hearts; the restless churning of instinct cells closes in on itself on the outskirts of Space and Time. Instead of futile carousel loves, it would be good to safely experience the immortal euphorias of the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3122080/  The mind - in many cases - is a manipulated intellect that plays on petty bargains and bribes; the Present, which has been lied to intolerably, is now sliding on its knees in disgust, because this current superficial, thin postmodern era has become more and more Tartarus. There is rarely a mou.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3121930/ The stubborn effort that only man can understand himself; the diminishing regularity of intentions, the inquisitorial midwifery indifference that now - for some reason - is already settling heavily on life; cheap successes and awards should not tempt you irresponsibly either. The petty, merciless lo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3121653/  The carefree days could never have existed; the everyday worries of today chain the average person like earthly anchors; joy-tide only according to necessity, if it still exists. Because one day everyone will begin their wandering in the invisible Universe, even if during their earthly life pr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3121501/  Still forced to listen to the silent clicks of time-locks, the bouncing enamel pushed out of his forehead, thus he himself is anxious on this collapsed globe. He has become aimless in his wanderings, a wasteful debtor to Existence; Deep, dark is the pit of Fate, if it is necessary to reach tha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3121288/  It would be good to understand and measure the remaining no-Time, to reach the outskirts of somehow unknown inner psychological feelings, where perhaps the call of conscious silence and silence can still be heard crystal clear; somewhere, sometime, the exiled faces will come together and be co.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3121072/  It would be nice - only by will, and perhaps by deed - to cling to each other, while we knowingly fall towards the swirling depths of bundee jumping. To feel the messages of the inner personality in the secret Morse code systems of instincts; only behind the wall of color-blind eyelids that wa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3120963/  As if people were not increasingly deliberately corrupting themselves in their reciprocated devotion, just like forgotten, unopened cans. They corrupt themselves in both unrequited love boycotts, seemingly endless, pitiful expectations, permanent abandonments, stolen happiness from others, sel.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3120801/ The temporary state of time now is bare; this is a preserved, wheezing interval of increasingly conscious, wooden indifference, rather than of helpful understanding. Its muddy, sloppy border points seem to be torn apart by the intentional emptiness. As if they are increasingly flowing, unprotected s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3120595/  Even now, in silence, the pervasive smell of universal rot settles down. The orphaned passion is more like a panther on the run, or an animal, since it is often unable to decide within itself what it is actually rebelling against. The billowing pitch-black fog foams up and down, as the deed an.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Tasi83/3120484/