zanikam....

Dithers.
Into everything what I could believe no longer I believe. It as this way as with taste when once you will get to know it then you already know that he exists but whether you always feel it or you are experiencing? Sounds are sticking in my mind and forever I will remember them, at least most probably soon I won't already see colours and to have joys from their being but staying something what it enrolled in my mind forever – their echo of the image. As impressing on a roll of film of camera. I would still like so much to see, but whether for me it will be given? Will I still grab hold of something what will lead me to the eternity? How high above clouds in air I felt this moment of real happiness and freedoms this way to experience total freeing from desires the illusion and unpleasant memories so that I want. From the body as the piece for me pranks unintentionally. From the thought what for me my lucky days are breaking. And from yearnings what are taking away from me dignity. To be an outcast, it is a black or natural course of events? To be an outsider are these real or imaginary illusions?