TRIUMPH OF SMALL MISUNDERSTANDINGS

 The Sisyphean, confused soul carries endless, piercing, snapping weights, perhaps it cannot even suspect it yet, but it too is maneuvered from one place to another by petty interests and pitiful promises. A silent, yawning pit-shell flows over the stubborn, wounded heart, which finally, inwardly, really bites it; every meeting-farewell is also a self-evident farewell-farewell.

 The greeter and the departing appear in a single dialogue at the same time, as is customary in most unexpected or even commonplace situations. Only trust and loyalty could remain the truly influential, fate-determining feelings, because all the others, like stray lice, crawl, bite sideways through the pores of the skin. Why do the last celebrities have to scratch the surface at all costs for the sake of their own success?! 

It is no longer possible to do anything with the geometric misery of existing relationships, because the preserved, massive indifference has increasingly fattened itself - at the expense of others. Perhaps it would be more useful if people dreamed of achievable dreams, for which some kind of modest financial investment is sufficient, which does not universally put them in debt, and perhaps does not even cost that much. 

Mortal chess circles distort the present anyway; direct inaccuracy deliberately appropriates the feelings of the individual. The triumph of misunderstandings only inevitably increases the communities of wild jerks. Instead of 20 deka cold cuts, the friend's ear with melted Trappist cheese with small, barely visible ham cubes sounds more appetizing. And just to be safe, it would be a good idea to return the Coke bottles in the hope of getting some Kinder or Snickers bars.