Mid-evening reflections

Everyone must be recognised,

otherwise anguish and depression

will belong only to the underworld

and to the scourge of disenchantment.

The psyche is a car with only one passenger,

we are all schizophrenic,

when the little voice inside us

calls us back to the beauty of normality

it is then that we realise the futility of the lament

that cries out against dark omens

Everyone is the world,

everyone is his own world.

One must concede the stage

even to the last to pass,

defying the repulsion for the ordinary,

otherwise the next-door neighbour

becomes the shadow of your omnipotence as an asshole

or the papier-mâché bust

of heroes of a world you imagine alien to you