Nightlings

The city absorbs everything. It consumes folly and wisdom, angels and demons. Equally. This is the greatest paradox of a big city. Angles turn into demons, and vice versa. All this takes place before our eyes.

Sometimes we just silently contemplate these metamorphoses, sometimes we casually look away as we pass by. Sometimes we are a part of this play. Usually subconsciously, and only rarely realizing our transformation.

Here, amidst winding streets, within a strange web of tree branches and wires the ancient idea of heaven and hell mingled together finally appears in its full glory.

You cannot ignore these signs.

lost in the wind
the childhood is gone
chasing dark leaves in the snow

You cannot turn away this time.

Memory is a subtle torture chamber (built for delight). As you try to recall a day (seemingly important), you enter the maze (join the Game). You start playing mind games (with your own mind).

Unpaid bills and phone numbers come first. Weather forecasts follow. Soon you find yourself buried within a pile of junk memories. And completely lost in the maze.

Finally you give up. Yet, in a year or two you recall it unconsciously in a flash.

Enter the fog of the suburbs - dream

Xmas is come: Xmas in gone

All in all, we cannot trace these unconscious movements. Only a blurred image is caught sometimes.

III

Sometimes it's hard to follow

the insane creature called 'human nature.'

dream - enter a sweet forest of the south

walk on

you'll find a small fountain

hidden in a forest cave

drink - the water will quench your thirst

To learn the truth means to die
(truth is an instant quietus).
Or to write a love song.
In any case it all just turns to dust.

the city mist
enfolds
fills with
the strangest feeling
of not being alone

of being a part
of these midnight
streets

of lights in the windows
of happiness
and despair

Follow a tortuous path of your memory.

Try to love your neighbor.
Until he slams a door in your face.
Or shoots.

Try to love the world.
Until it casts you away.
Normally you never would think of it.
Still, once you are entombed
in the shadow play of a big city,
you're on the way to it.

Tell the truth to anyone --
you acquire another enemy.
Or corpse.

shadows that we are
playing games
of love and warmth

deceiving
our everyone
and
first of all
ourselves

unconsciously
hurting
making excuses
and
hurting again

VII

People tend to form groups (that's normal). First of all, they form couples (based on sexual options). That's ridiculous -- and absolutely abnormal. They justify their lunacy. They say that it's normal for any live species. Yes, it is normal (these poor little animals). However, animals just don't know how to deceive. Thus, there are no excuses about forming pairs. It dilates all intrinsic human contradictions. And a big city absorbs all wasted emotions. Creates more monsters. Creates vice streets, false promises, lawful couples that are happy to have an occasional secret affair.

VIII

death of a dream
is always painful
is always sour

it hurts
throws you
through dimensions
and times

in search
of anything
that's more real
than this false scenery

but the only
real thing
is dust

We are a part of the big city. Part of the Game. Monsters and saints. Angels and demons. With false desires and impossible dreams.

These signs are too obvious not to notice them. Still, we ignore them, put on our daily (nightly) blinders. And slowly drift towards decay and death.

chasing dead leaves in the snow

We are nightlings.

Nightlings in a multibillion asylum.

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