Bigoted revenge botched up its Caesar yet again. Nothing new under the sun indeed. Instead of the seven deadly sins, the silent demonstrators held on to depression the longest, their only property and, laying down their banners demanding a state of rights, turned tail in the surrounding hostility, their boon companion, anger, lost along the way. Still, as of old, they keep laughing at themselves when among friends. The one with the loudest laughter is an actor, recently diagnosed with lung cancer. Open a book and point at a word! Try to combine its letters into meaningful words. What meaningful means, consensus will tell you. Come to terms with yourself! Talk terms! Or gaze at the trams in the September sun. The city has its moving mirrors carried around, statues of the same unaging eyes for two hundred years: life in the mirror is youth’s disease. But you want to get cured. Cured of the age that will not admit how private and political pathology overlap.
You carry two worlds within. Take long walks at night. You are