Pridem do konca poti
in tam na steni
na obešalniku visi
moje življenje,
izsušeno
izživeto
nedoživeto
visi, kot stara cunja.
Stojim kot duh
nekje v ozadju sobe
kot nemi opazovalec
kot program
brez možnosti besede
le gledam lahko,
ker je programer naredil napako
in vidim,
da je celo moje življenje
pravzaprav nekdo
sprogramiral
in da imam srečo, da je sploh tako bilo.
lahko bi mojo kodo
v roke dobil začetnik
in potem bi lahko samo gledal
kako se vse vrti kot vrtiljak
ne bi pa mogel vplivati
na hitrost vrtenja.

Ah počakaj no
saj je v resnici bilo tako!

Kdo je sprogramiral mojo kodo?!
Zakaj ni briljantno bilo.

Ampak to je moj pogled na zadevo,
pa bi sploh lahko boljše bilo?!

Sem kot program
in ti imajo vedno neko napako.

-------------------------------------------------

Programmed

I reach the end of the path
and there on the wall
hangs
my life,
dried
lived
unlived
like an old rag.
I stand like a ghost
somewhere in the back of the room
as a mute observer
as a program
without the possibility of words
I can only watch
because the programmer made a mistake
and I see
that my whole life
was actually
programmed
by someone
and that I am lucky that it was like that.
A beginner could get his hands on my code
and then he could just watch
how everything turns
like a carousel
but he would not be able to influence
the speed of rotation.

Oh wait,
because that is how it really was!

Who programmed my code?!
Why wasn't it brilliant?

But that is my view of the matter,
but could it be better?!

I am like a program
and they always have some mistake.

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