Crying sun, screaming stars - it's my world
Evil God crashing cars - is my Lord
Tell me about it!

Open your mind, bury your fears,
I will collect and drink all your tears
For good.


Stop it, unkill it, make it alive.

Ugly children running around. Cancer and AIDS breaking the ground.
Stop and retry. Stop and retry. Stop and retry.

I don't know, if a wonderful Music helps to feel the ingenious Literature better, or if the great books help to understand the Musik... and ourselves.

development

It is clear, that a personal development of each single human being is only an integral part of the society's or mankind's progress. The only thing is that the whole history of the mankind proves, that it's development is aimed at more sophisticated methods of destruction of the living environment and other humans. Then, can somebody be really proud to be a part of this development?

storm

You sleep and don't see how waters of the life ocean are raging below us. Storm is sinking ships of eternity, and casting ashore forgotten treasures: gentleness, loyalty, illusions, faith, youth... I'm collecting them for us, showering you with them, and they are protecting us from the cold chaos, hidden outside your doors...

Hell

Hell is a sweet unbearable pain.
Hell in my soul. Hell in my brain.
Taking me out of stupid illusions
Hell is an only and no solution.

Going to hell is not easy. but hey,
i'm on the way. i'm on the way...

Moon melody

She sits on the chair in the middle of the room, her hands around her knees. Tears drip from her eyes, her hair disorderly comes down over her pale lean face. She thoughtlessly looks out the window, and a full moon stares her, likewise meaninglessly. A clock teaks somewhere in a corner, barely audibly, but deadly-monotone...

Suddenly her sight brightens, wonderingly and cautiously appeals to the moon. She hears subtle music. No doubt - it's the moon playing its Sonata, eternal as the world itself, touching the strings of thousands of suffering souls...

Her heart beats at a faster pace. At first she is afraid to stir, as any foreign sound can easily stifle this fragile song. But over time, the sound is becoming increasingly apparent, and fills her with hitherto uncharted sweet sense of harmony and inevitability of death.

She rises, holds out her hands to the moon. Her lips are ajar, and now the moon melody of despair completely overwhelms her. She is not afraid any more to break this thread - she closes her eyes and starts to circle around the room. There is no tact and no lyrics in this song, and her movements are irregular and absurd too, like a life itself...

She opens her eyes, but she sees no walls, no windows, no dark buildings of the city. Everything is dissolved in the sound of moon, melted in the dance of her weak body. The whole world of senseless illusions drowned in the merciless reality of being. She is not feared, not frozen, not sad any more. There is only the pale melody of the moon, only this last howl of non-existing universe. But even this unrestrained sound cannot melt her any more...

Reflections

If we saw only reflections in the mirror, we would certainly think, that they are real human beings, animals, objects ...
So maybe the "real" people themselves are merely reflections of something we do not see? Souls?
The invisible mirror is broken, - and reflection disappears. But something Significant still remains...