surface

Too many surfaces ... again
Papers with quick written words cover the walls.
Every single letter without content.
I cannot look behind the words on the papers.
The room get papered with all those papers with letters on them.
Have I to read all those letters on the papers to be able taking a look
onto the wall behind?
Onto the next surface, where I can look again in surprice and boredom..
One wall is following the other one like stairs walking into distance.
Never reaching an end.
Unimportance all around.
Stairs and papers and an unfinished room with endless surfaces.
Letters, which are finished to sentences, but not being able to tell something.
I can see those bricks, which are in my mood, making me dreaming about
a wall, where is a door to trespass all this surface and surfaces.
A possible step into something, where there is no horizon. No beginning as no end.