Что-то надо написать, а иначе ничего не будет....

Something needs to be written, otherwise nothing will happen. But how to write in the void. How to break through to what has already been written, but it already exists. You won’t be fed up with anything. It's time to confess, I'm hungry, and when I’m full, I’m scared. It’s scary that this is the end. In the meantime, I'm hungry, you can write. For whom - first of all, for yourself. Why - to let it go. Something keeps me all the time. Holds a feeling of understatement, a feeling of incompleteness, a feeling of loneliness. This is not that text. That text is erased. And now I am writing another. It's a shame that that text was erased. But with resentment you will not go far. Fat and cold. The time has come for down jackets and scarves. All leaves are fallen. Now they are gone. The trees are bare. Like driftwood stuck in the ground. This text is nothing. The text of the void, in which you can drown if you give vent to your fears and torments. Every day comes every day and this is temporary. The mind can barely cope with this thought. He would be at peace. But no, he won’t get away from me so easily. A knight walked through the courtyard clanking his armor - a closer look turned out to be a man in strange clothes with a bag of aluminum cans over his shoulder. The sound of aluminum cans created such an illusion. Klatz-Klatz. If you close your eyes, it was a knight who dismounted - to stretch his legs a little. But my eyes are open. And I see. I see the sadness that envelops me and puts me to bed. I will not give up so easily. The days are flying too fast. Every day comes every day. And I want to make every day that very day. The very day that will be today. In the meantime, a gloomy Saturday.