ON THE GARBAGE HILL OF MISCONCEPTION DREAMS

 We do not notice and all the lost misery, unnecessary pity, is infected with an infectious ulcer, that every day a more human, more livable Being falls; they fight or lash out in their greedy mood at every remaining moxing column. Is the brainwashed Estonian now only led by vile Judas money?! Starving stomachs dance a gallop to the tune of croaking frogs, because whoever steals bread and a little paprika-flavored salami is quite suspicious even in the eyes of the better-off. Life, which is tearing itself apart, tears painful rose thorns in Promethean dramatic torments not only from the soul, but also from the pores of the body. 

Now adventurous swindlers, underworld gangster-satans rule as petty kings, like some kind of compromising usurpers, so that through petrified, gangrenous, sluggish Sisyphusian indifference there can hardly be one who would not now voluntarily sell himself. The World distributes mockery and disgrace as help, instead of helping in the manner of human laws. An outcast wanders in deceptive dreams of apparent happiness. 

Because here only money glitters all day long, but it is very much so, and because "some" prefer to chase mirages of fried pigeons all day long to please themselves, dreaming of uncertain Destinies in desires - often - it is impossible to decipher. A stateless apostate sinks into the petty worries of frivolous seriousness; here the man of culture also stands as a garbage man, a social worker, since he has no better choice, if he cannot find a position through protection. 

Anyone who would protect himself - even humanly - can still come in handy as a neighbor, a donkey; even a fancy company of wild beasts can lynch anything they want with fist-rights, or jerk-peasant wild beasts with medieval stonings. The public employee, like a hard-working wage monkey, licks the suit-clad asses one after another, simply because he believes that the labor code - in principle - applies to everyone. applies.