a Saturday afternoon in the Bajvívó street

the light seems to be pliable
its rays are licking the terrace
I am not able to see the waves
absurdly everything is undulations,
if I could see them,
it was like an immense ocean.
they are coming into the room
radiates over everywhere
my perception is blocked in my throat
if god existed, waves might be its smile,
I am sitting in the yellow armchair,
tried to have a nap,
I don't like the early afternoon,
but I cherish photons.
watched my face in the mirror
wrinkles, craters, capillaries,
our skin shows our history
each of my smile
all my worries had been engraved into lines and curves
bezier curves of life
we are all quite similar.
there are so many things we cannot become,
as our time is limited.
I am afraid of my biological fragility
and the impermanence of my physical being,
I wanted to be a hybrid of computer and me
lost my biology and body
no more physical eating, sex or illness
everything happens in our brain
so I will be able to feel all I can now,
and much much more
people love their body
Most movies and books show our imperfections as perfection.
"Human thing"
"fascinator"
"blahblahator"
they try to convince about that our impermanence is all right
being dead is unavoidable
and god won't like you if you want to get rid of this
and we need our horrible biology
these are gracious lies
I would get rid of death If I could
unfortunately, I will die earlier than that could happen
so, I can just dream about deep-space travelling
and the existence without death and illnesses
I hope it will happen once