Stupidness

There is a place somewhere .. May be. Wherever.
You may step around like a hole in the air.
Windy pictures guiding your way ... so you cannot loose direction .
I am waiting for the wind .
Questions, questions, voices ...... again and again .
Crossing minds time by time .
Emptiness . Cries ! So much .
Help . Help . Help .

What is this all about ?
Can,t help myself ? No !
That,s not true . But - cannot help in believing what,s around me -
my eyes - my ears - what they see - what they hear .
What is life about ? What at all ?

Life is a dance .
Can you hear music ? That sort, without tunes ?
This one, that makes us moving all the time of living .
So the dances move on .
Just by its own . No dancer anywhere .
So darkness everywhere .
My steps are running away with the air . So invisible .
Not visible .
They are just walking by their own and so I am following .

Between them and me there is a wall without a door - without a window
to look through .
But I saw some ladders to climb above ..
to meet my steps on the other side .

And there without any kind of disturbing things - me and my
moving in life - will do a great and colourful dance .

Do you want to take a look over the wall, seeing yourself dancing ?

So, let,s open the window, while I am looking for a ladder .