Pledged Insignificance Curves

 A person is often ridiculous even to himself; when objects, connections, and perspectives have all come to rest. He surpasses one another. Where can he sink in his vulnerable orphanhood, when everyone only tempts and treats him with false promises?! He no longer comes to his senses for almost anything, since he can sense deep down that the things he can acquire may not have much meaning or value.

 Just as a stingy miser, after his own investment capital, would begin the practice of acquiring booty with an increasingly morose, predatory Janissary spirit, because he can hardly see the limits of his selfish possibilities; understanding should spread like a beneficial cold with the fever curves of acceptances. When the walls of the soul become transparent, that is the truly nakedness, because then everyone will be vulnerable.

 It sags like a straw, exposed to the elements, and then drifts along with all the other similarly exposed ones. The inner soul still needs to stand hesitantly, prepared, even after decades, lest it be robbed by unauthorized, compromising, and rubbed skulls. 

Man can hardly take off, free himself from the petty, Sisyphean burdens of his Fate, of which even the smallest crumbs are increasingly heavy. He begins the silent turmoil of impatience, like some kind of yoke-work, every day again and again, because he cannot do otherwise. 

Not only promises of the Universe, but also pledges of friendship have been converted into worn-out coins: man increasingly disillusionedly observes the curves of insignificance of the connections around him. A billion curious, greedy eyes are watching each other, as everyone is just curious about who bought a new car, a luxurious castle or a luxurious vacation?! And while the average person is blackmailed into taking his last breath, even fleeting pleasures wink at each other in the crossfire of conspiratorial glances.