Missing

Based on the short story of the same name by Franz Kafka "Missing"

Missing, or How Market Relations Kill Humanistic Conscience.

If everything is based on buying and selling, then over time, the individual also becomes a commodity on the market of personalities. The essence, spirit, faith are lost...
"The cook's children teach themselves to waltz, but the social elevator won't lift these 'Vasyas'" (25/17, Sound Letter🎸)

And when teenagers write "no relations, except market relations" on a fence, they confirm K. Marx's words that "Being determines consciousness."
And in the story "Missing," one of the lost says: "If you are constantly treated like a dog, then in the end you start to think that you are a dog" (p. 257📚)

Man gets used to everything, said V. Frankl, who survived Auschwitz, but immediately supplements these words with the phrase: "don't ask me at what cost"

What is accepted by society becomes the norm for an individual member of that society, and

"If we are spat in the face for years, we too will get used to it.
Outrage will fade, after all there are glasses before our eyes,
And in the pocket there is a handkerchief to wipe away the spit.
Saliva is beneficial to the skin - it will be scientifically proven,
And the name 'spit' will be replaced with a fashionable and sonorous one.
Everything becomes normal by this principle.

And so it should be, because a person needs to know that he is not alone in his opinion, he needs at least some path⛳
But the missing person wonders "how the others so carelessly reconcile themselves to their current position without realizing the necessity of choosing a future... read nothing except perhaps dog-eared and threadbare detective novels" (p. 174📚).
Yes, very simply, reading - robs strength "opium" - opium for the people💫
Freud said not to wake, but also urged not to wake those who sleep, because illusions and defense mechanisms serve the instinct of self-preservation. And who would want to know more? For as Ecclesiastes said, "For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow."💯
And so we walk in pitch darkness, but walk confidently, for we hear that others are also tramping along with us (E. Fromm, Man for Himself).
And so from birth to death, from Monday to Monday, the whole life is programmed, and reproduced in strict order.
How can a person in this routine of everyday life not forget that he is a person - an irrepeatable individuality, the one granted this one and only life?"☯️

Well, we have at the bottom a short motto "truth is in wine", you look at everything and a bitter aftertaste in the mouth, but somehow pleasant - like from frostbite it becomes:

Life glows slightly askew like a cigarette, smoke eats the eyes and hence tears,
But in the heart it's still quiet and easy, after all, others won't go far either."

Like on a counter - all are equal, and the fish rots from the head, you just don't look far🏁

Protests Won't Help✏️

"In closed offices, the threads of fates are spun. The dissatisfied spin their sentences - it was so, is so, and will be so.🚩
And full heads hide in 'golden sand.'
Curious heads are thrown into the nearest grove. Raging heads are treated with a bullet to the temple, traced by IP, filled with cranberries up to the belt."

"And hatred is yeast for the number of zeros. Protests are so nutritious.
Come on, pour, such slops to the brim, then try to drink it yourself.
This is a revolution - for dads' and moms' wallets.
Everyone says: 'We are together,' no one knows in what way.
Antosha Chekhonte hammers you on the forehead.
If you don't want to, you won't understand, even if you're Wasserman... (25/17, Sound Letter🎸)
For some, Nikita Mikhalkov, for others, Lucio Fulci.
Someone graduated from Yale, someone drinks ale, and
Kafka in one paragraph masterfully describes people's lives:⤵️

"Numerous balconies around were strewn with people, in the light of lamps whole families were situated here - depending on the size of the balcony - either around a small table, or in a row of chairs, or simply standing or just peeking out from the balcony door. Men sat sprawled, their feet propped on the balcony railing, and read huge newspapers dangling almost to the floor; others played cards - seemed silent, but with all the more frenzy banging trumps on the table; women, almost all with needlework on their laps, occasionally broke away from their sewing to cast a glance at the surroundings or down at the street; one - already not young, sickly-looking blonde on the neighboring balcony - yawned every now and then, each time rolling her eyes and covering her mouth with the linen she was darning; even on the narrowest balconies children managed to start running around, causing displeasure from parents. In many apartments gramophones were playing, from there came singing or orchestral music, which, however, no one particularly listened to - only occasionally the Head of the family gave a sign, and one of the household hurried into the room to put on a new record. In some windows, love couples stood frozen motionless, one was just standing in the window opposite: a man greedily embraced a girl, kneading her breast." 📚

〰️This is how market relations kill humanistic conscience! 〰️

〰️This is where a person goes missing without a trace!〰️

And the main character so wanted to escape from there. Those who saved him from prison want him to become their servant,... the door is locked... the key cannot be found...
And in a fight, the compass was smashed...
And now he stands on the same balcony and suddenly sees a "student" on the neighboring balcony. He starts a conversation with the "student" (herald/alter ego, I-position) 🔎⭕

• "Do you have another place?" - the student inquired with interest.
• "No," Karl replied, "but it doesn't matter to me, I just want to get away from here."
• "Listen," asked the student, "so it doesn't matter to you?" - Both were silent for a bit. - "Why don't you want to stay with them then?"
• "If all servants, choosing their masters, were so scrupulous," said the student and seemed to smile. - "Take me, for example: during the day I work as a salesman, an errand boy, receiving a miserable salary. So take an example from me."
• "How?" - Karl was amazed. - "During the day you are a salesman, and at night you study?"
• "Well, yes," the student answered. "Otherwise it doesn't work out. I've tried everything already, And believe me, this way of existence is still the most prosperous. Once I was just a student, so to speak, both day and night, then I almost died of hunger, slept almost in a doghouse, and dressed so that it was shameful to go to lectures. But that's all over."
• "But when do you sleep?" - Karl asked, growing more and more surprised.
• "When do I sleep?" - he echoed. "When I finish my studies, then I'll sleep it off. In the meantime, I drink black coffee." 📚

Don't Waste Time!

Don't waste time!
I commit to writing,✔️
I commit to reading, ✔️
I commit to living as before, but now also accepting others into my life - respecting them✔️

Before time turns back,
Before the burden is blown away like a lock of hair -
It's time to grow, and gather fruits and sow again! ✔️