We are crossing the field of intertextuality, endowing the turn of speech with the meaning, by virtue of which the text becomes itself. The mechanics of senses moves, with indefatigable somersaults and acts of addressing, being a blunt essence in relation to the ideological machine, deconstructing observations and finding the in the constantly self-made dictionary. Here the wind is blowing to the waist, the clothing absorbs small drops of the rain, and the legs are get bogged down in a loose clay on the edge of time-complex final spots of existence.