An abstract text dedicated to all silent observers. The original was written in Greek.
Behind the glass inside the café: the observers, meaning those who glance right and left, left and right, along every invisible line inside the space, are “set up”. The observers are those who are not quieting down never, they kiss sweetly every move in space and time, they are tormented within the frameworks established by the various things, objects and living things.
That is why you will find them behind the glass – within the boundaries, this glass, this dividing line between that “closing in a space” where more or less the other “human living things” with “two feet” control the other “human living things” with “two feet” (distances are very short so this intensifies this phenomenon), but also of the wider field with it’s movement outside and beyond the glass.
But the observer knows why he is “set up” in such a way: looking outside the glass and with his back turned to the other “living human things” with “two feet”. Very often then, the observer imagines stories unfolding in front of him, as if there was a total absence of the glass: then the same observer inside the space and the time without that protective glass line, will move the cores of his eyes and his skull right and left, high and low, along each invisible for quite some time – as long as he wants to.
The “living human things” with “two feet” emerging from everywhere with heavy glances telling to the observer exactly that thing, which can destroy him: that there is nothing to observe. Thinking that observation and curiosity were accepted in a purely natural way, in the childhood. However that special glass observer who has reached thirty years of existence on earth, seems to ignore this separation. Two long lines invisible inside the skull:
“The world to be filled with glass observers… the planets all hovering in the glowing universe inside to be filled with glass observers…”
The same body and face inside space-time
and the cores met the glass, and they danced.
They danced without bothering what others will say
the movement right, left, high and low
standing in front of the glass,
alone standing behind the glass
the child would come to get the crumb.
Clear eyes from weight and cravings
sorry anymore, bored with sighs.
With glass feed them so that they feel the silk
and in their skull let honey leap.
To have that thirst and fatigue, that children have,
sometimes the brake, sometimes the gas… with the grace of mute.
The light of the pellet core pops into the skins
who know how to kiss it,
a sweet kiss of every movement in order to revive the living things with two feet.
Fresh and tender swimming now inside the eye cores
and inside the round skull
and then talking and talking.
My dearest glass observers,
keep standing like that behind and in front glasses,
as a proof of protest.