Without luggage

What it is, who it is, where it is, I don't know, although it is constantly crouching around me. like air. as a ghost, as a bad cop and as my best friend. I take any color and I want to paint I don't know what. The spider descends from the ceiling onto the canvas and stares absently at the whiteness just like me. A white painting canvas is like snow that has just fallen, on which you should leave some kind of trail as you go your way.

***

I go in, I go out, I open, I close, I turn on the light, I turn off the light, while in my hand, like chewing gum, a doorknob of darkness is stuck. Everywhere, the floor is rotten. Wherever I go, I have to turn, everywhere the devils in make-up and fancy bastards spit and poison. But I will still be good and be myself, even though this world is not mine at all.

***

Drawers full of unanswered questions and answers that don't make any sense. A real small fortune in which one can enjoy pleasant indecision to one's heart's content. Those who cut on the stump of wisdom were left confused with the mud of vanity up to their elbows.

***

I play with myself, I play with others, I play when it's not for playing. I play when they tell me not to play. I play with anything and everything. I play when I'm alone and surrounded by dark threatening clouds, when I'm on the beach, before a storm, in the rain, in the snow.

***

How to make people do better? To take a beating or plant love in their heart and make them cry, to laugh, to sow love like grass over everything, to understand everything to the end, or to show them the abyss into which they will fall if they do not take care of each other and everything around them.

***

The question is a reward and everyone can participate. As a reward, everyone gets the good will to do everything they started with kindness. The remote in the hand is like a gun to the temple. The magazine is filled to the brim with bullets with impoverished meaning. I have lunch alone, I sleep alone, I drink coffee alone, when I get up, I make my own life beautiful and silly. I decide everything myself, I go through life alone, I watch when the rain drops fall down the window, I warm myself in the sun. I am alone in my paradise and prison. I am torturing myself, I am freeing myself, I am giving birth to myself.

***

It's hard for an ant when someone steps on an anthill, it's hard for a mosquito when it's dusted with poison, it's hard for the grass that dries up in the heat, it's hard for the snow that melts, it's hard for the streams that dry up and the fish in them, it's hard for the butterflies that are sentenced to one day of life, it's hard for the nails that are hammered into the head for centuries, it's hard for words when fools take them in their mouths, it's hard for people with shackles and freedom when an illegal breaks through the barricades to tell slaves to follow her. Everything is very difficult, it's just easy and easiest to give up everything.

***

In a little while, they will ask permission for dogs to roam, birds to fly, leaves to turn, sun to shine, clouds to float, permission for a chair to sit, head to think, steep plane for steep, fine sand for small, snow for whiteness, night for blackness, corners for lounging, old people for growing old, children for playing. And what can we say about the stars that incite dreams without permission with their shine and the breezes that illegally smuggle free breath... Modern technology employed by the devil beats the little common sense that somehow remains.

***

Someone looks up, someone down. Wherever you look, and whatever you have or don't have, think or don't think, someone is watching you and you'll get what you deserve in the end. When I least expect it, I find myself somewhere in the dust under the bed, under the leaves, in the yard, under the crammed drawings with which I tried to trace myself. I don't like long texts, long stories, big lunches, long relationships, long pants, long hair. I don't like long pipes to crawl through. I can't stand long lectures, reports, dullness, hassles, endless humiliating butt-sucking, slurring words, raping the silence. I don't like to listen to pipers and humbly, with eyes wide open, listen to serators.

***

Sometimes a person cannot be with himself, with others, with others in himself, with himself in others. With everything and everyone. With nothing. Sometimes everything is a fog where you stand alone in front of the great infinity waiting for a miracle that will bring you everything you want. I get on my train and go all the way there. Without luggage, documents, ticket and timetable, I travel, I admit, often to that hidden place where everything is wide and deep, and where everything opens up and where everything is possible. I drive alone like a ghost even though there is no road, no signposts, and I don't know where, how, where, or why. I go there behind everything, where everything is quiet and bright. I hold my little funny steering wheel in my hands and I don't worry because that road is my journey to infinity.

***

Throw everything you have over your head, you will be left with nothing in which everything will be. I slept facing left, stood up, stood on my left foot, drank coffee with my right hand, and I think about left things. When I left the house, I somehow turned left. I go to left-wing places, I sit with some left-wing people, I'm interested in some left-wing things, the women I like are left-wing, and in general I lead a left-wing life.