MESSAGE TO THE WORLD

I dread conflict, unnecessary trouble. I'm already disgusted by the unnecessary prey talk. I retire to the ivory tower as a hard-working hermit. Rather, I hide in the ranks of my reconciled cell-solitude behind snow-white windows, where the tales of the Thousand and One Nights fit just as well as the Western poets.

Also polite ladies with flower threads - at most they only say hello to me on the texts of yellowed pages. Among the ferocious book gurus of social media, there are quite a few useless, louse-like people who bite and bite, pettish, and sting.

My dear, if you can hear, save me from these homo erectus, dirty to the core, because I myself am more and more terrified and afraid of them. The barrage of needle-pointed arrows of their criticism falls venomously into my self-financing advertising strategy. They are only jealous of my books, with jackal-speak. They abuse and hurt my free poems. I'd break into a wheel, I'd square it up - if they could - they'd grind my stanzas with millstones, if it were possible.

Reverse inquisition gutting, but this is revenge - they slander me a thousand times because I'm avant-garde and because I'm creative at the same time so that the rebellion can no longer rear its worthy head in this desolate region. "I would leave this world." With more precious treasures in my heart - but I have not yet found a truer soul mate, for whom the shining one-eyed Sun could justifiably rise every day.