UNCERTAIN PROBEES IN THE DEEPS OF FOX-LABYRINTHS

 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?! Even pigeons cannot be trusted, since they summarize everything - despite the fact that they have been fed persistently and faithfully. 

The sunset also dissects questions indifferently; halfway between quivering and respect, all encrypted connections believed to be aborted are broken. They are offended involuntarily, and not only because of their cowardice and shame - but perhaps those who have increasingly compromised with themselves also follow petty, coded instructions. Inside, a contoured silence playfully fiddles in the folds of faces; invisible feet trample those who live with tolerated humility, who perhaps can't help but do nothing about it. 

A billion-dollar star buzzes like a beehive in the vast expanse of the cosmos, yet here on this Earth it is increasingly difficult to find a partner who accepts and loves their partner without money, even as they have come to know them. Superficial manipulation projects false torso images through curved mirrors; honesty and trust are only becoming increasingly rare. The uncertainty of the Future, like a light blanket, slips off a person's skin again and again, even if they want to know where their unknown path will take them. 

The subconscious mind seems to have been - often - closed off from creative, creative ideas, because all you can hear are the words of gossiping and babbling. The world is now like the inner world of an incomprehensible fox-labyrinth, from which humanity has been sucked out. He pursues his petty whims crudely and wildly, this weak man now rarely kisses the hand of real ladies.