FRAGMENT FROM MY SECOND BOOK "UNBEARABLE".
Dear James,
I haven't written to you in a while, in a long time
Although I knew you wouldn't worry
You know me well
(Countless journeys in my head on the, of course, endless and stormy oceans, the scenario that makes...
I would like to end here)
Every paddle stroke of mine always leads
To the Island
The one that
Oh, James!
I have no patience tonight for long descriptions
When I light a fire tonight
I'll flare up with it myself
We're all going to die, James
Even so
Most people are vomiting bile
Because of the nonsense of small things
They don’t care about the complete absence of Life
What a horror, James!
They are trapped by things that don’t make them
Conditioned by what they don't need
Holding tight to the Dust
Melting at the speed of wax
Smoldering
Besmeared with Bitterness
Wrapped in Void
Sealed with self-pity
It would be wonderful, like in American movies,
For the flame to at least brush against them, the spark to be ignited again
But life is not an American movie, James
And the fire I'm spewing tonight is
For those people for whom every day is new
Who do not wait for the New Year’s and similar holidays
For those who are not waiting
For those who are not afraid of Life
They bite and kiss it
With the same force that Life does it to them
For those who do not look down before the Face of Love
For those who do not deviate
Free souls
Which create their Islands
Laughing, leaving bones on the rocks
Because bones are the only thing Death will be able to take
When it comes
Not knowing what to do with them