Let's close the voices through which we hear ancestors. We are no longer a sequel. We are no longer just one step on the big road. I will stifle the screams of my bottom. Let it disappear from my body. Ancestors are over. I also deafen to the laughter of the descendants. Descendants are in a hurry to begin. That's why I'm moving too slowly. In ecstasy I feel an expansion through physical reality. Suddenly I stop. Suddenly I yell: I don't want to be there in an invisible body after this body! Enthusiasm speeds me up. I lift my legs. I feel my hands. I separate my head. I turn to myself. I penetrate the softness of the unknown. I am excited about death. By killing others, I delay myself. Erotica of dying. Countless loneliness screams tongue under all tongues. They warn of turns. I hear how I don't hear them. I'm becoming a desirable killer. The bearer of an unstable body. The eternity of self-regulation. Sensation. Peace.