Days on Earth


All themes are used up. Themes a young man (the one that is (in the eyes of the contemporary literature critic)- to attract the hearts and souls of the would be consumer), would find attractive and intensive enough that would therefore count as a communication model that will sell.

All short memories have faded. The one a man, who feels the need for it, wants to write down in a form called avanguard.

The long term memories are buried somewhere or simply not intriguing enough and relaxed at the same time (as a prerequisite to be readable) or (for the more elder readers) not enough old.

For those who still have a fetishistic attitude towards books and are not considering them a conservative matter or a deformation.

All there is left is the Space which is considered to be an ideal. It may really be a peak or Zen or one of the Ways, or just a horizon, a change, a clear that has no beginning or a history of tails.

Creepy or constructive.

Worlds are meeting, worlds we can say goodbye too, worlds we can fight against, learn from them or stay in them.

Two worlds that meet, building together based on time, but without real interest of the same in – what is referred to as a Form which has the need to express itself, to wrestle with the multitude of the unsaid. Unsaid issues on different objects in the form of consumers of different specters of the material or spiritual worlds.

Two spheres morphing into each other in one tangent with unforeseeable parallels.

Tangents which are forming – contrary to common sense and knowledge as we like to call it, transformed into terms like ratio or irrational.
The peace allows creative movements, fitted into the heretofore reasoning known as Heliocentrism, or the cognition which completes the yet unknown strings of the string theory.
A naturally conditioned departure from a fixed point, as from any representative point which would allow a subjective viewpoint, in order to get to (for the human need understandable ) conclusion or knowledge, gives longevity which increases with every contact.
Every meeting in the multicultural commonality of spheres, defies the known.

“Life is a river” –said a Wiseman , after being asked about the nature of life.

“Really? A River?” -said the asker…

“Why ? Isn’t it ?“-said the Wiseman in his wisdom, confirming the nature of human knowledge.


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