A COMBINATION OF PRIMITIVE SURVIVALS

This current vile, indifferent age - fear - perhaps no longer notes the modest, humble merits of ordinary people. Mene-Tekel fire signals have disappeared to the last detail, here an uninhabited city-island, elsewhere the universal protrusions of weed-howitzer shells can be seen on a cracked asphalt carpet. If a person is made to sit up by manipulative friends or their betrayed moments, then one should not finally surrender oneself.

 Who today asks the usual repeated "how am I?" How can a simple person feel with a grumbling stomach even after three days?! Our belittling, molasses-like disappointments can be exchanged for Judas coins at any time at any vending machine. Our counterarguments, which we thought were rock-solid like echoing, inner voices, only speak to us less and less often; as if they had become the same accomplice of man to man, they only say what others want to hear and not how they feel. 

The Future, nicknamed the baby, was not invented for us either, those who created it. In a nerve-wracking glow, it seems as if the simplest, utterable compliments and truths have become mass-produced, because doubt and uncertainty await everyone at the same time, so that they can divert us from the safe paths of refuge once and for all. The hours, squeezed inward, can no longer know anything certain, only the Beginning and the End are predictable. Man thickens like vinegar or cell instincts, until finally he sells himself irretrievably and liquidates himself. 

The endless combinations quite quickly lose their true significance. Day by day, man must move in ever narrower circles, if he is to learn the ancient principles of visceral survival.