***

What will you do when you poison your well?
You need to be very clever to do such a job.
Congratulations, you did just that.
This well was virtual, and the purest
and you drew strength from it,
but now you feel only terrible bitterness.

A sleepwalking pest made his way to his own well at night
and threw bitter grass into the clean water.
Maybe you dreamed that you were brewing tea,
but in reality, the player Never Mistakes, you poisoned your only well.
It's so stupid that it's impossible to believe.

You managed to poison your reality in a dream.
And now it's bitter.
What talent.
Poisoning the source of your strength - you're an idiot.
Read a book about logic or something.
You can't get rid of this taste of bitterness now.

Do I have to apologize now?
This is a wonderful bitter Schweppes.
I don't like sweets anyway.
This is the real taste of cocoa, if anything.

Especially since the pest doesn't seem to be me.
I'll try to forget everything. I've already forgotten.
It just seemed that way.
Call yourself a super specialist in ruining any good thing.
And turning any light into ominous darkness.

Yes, it turned out to be a very magnificent poem
Congratulations.
It's just music - nothing to worry about.
But there are no creepy retrospectives into the centuries in it.
Where did they come from?

Well, not creepy, just a little undesirable.
And then, they are there. But I've already forgotten everything.
Undesirable? That's what they're called.
And I'm not inclined to dramatize anything.
It's a style.
Of course.
Bitterness, metallic taste, don't bother you?
No, excellent taste. Everything is fine.
Well, I didn't squeeze a lemon in there.
Otherwise it would be sour.
Yeah, yeah.

I like your nonsense, Ouija,
Pay attention, you speak for both me and yourself.
Yes, I think, by the way, for both too.
Eh, easy to take - hard to carry..
So we found the culprit in the end - we need to think better.
oh, let the heavens open;
There is no fury in hell more terrible than a woman rejected!!!
I beg your pardon, Mr. Gant suddenly possessed me
With a dramatic performance.

Isn't this the kind of drama expect from me?
Oh, woe, I poisoned the imaginary source of joy!
I poisoned the oasis in the mirage.
Honey nectar turned to bitterness!
Ouija, we need a choir of mourners right now.
Because I don't even know how to level this absurdity.

It continues to affect me.
Echoes of events that did not happen to me affect me,
It's very abnormal, really.
They also taste bitterness.
Metaphor. I'm not very good at distinguishing tastes.
Maybe the taste has become spicy?

It seems the medium needs a protection amulet.
Ouija, we need to get a dried chicken foot.

It's impossible to laugh it off.
Of course, I'm more serious than ever.