It's still stopping now. My heart drummed and my uncontrollable heart bounces. We also feel it in our bone-breaking viscera, in the basic formula of our skeletons: Infinite Time is hysterical, in large cloud passages like a herd of greedy wolves among an army of lambs!

What if I can't take this cudar atmospheric front anymore? "It just depends on your organization, like your only driving force for many, many years!" - Oh, but Summer! The heated nights of insomnia! Swirling insomnia and restlessness, which suffocates everyone as a temptation, and an ****-winking of ripe colorful fruits, out in the kitchen garden, and

those unforgettable, immortal passions, sighing flames that came out every summer! Wounds, purulent scars bulged like stigmas in the craters of my body, and because I was careless I now have to put up with clenched prison teeth that fatal UVB radiation measured on me! - You haven't even looked at me!

,, Come on! What would I have done? I was just playing with you so I could throw it away forever! ” - The destruction of the apocalypse of the universe in all your deeds, your ancient deeds! You have been exiled in your heart for a long time, and I have not found myself since! And then, as one who has long been forgotten and described, he is devastated, he digests himself incessantly! As a one-eyed prisoner of the Cyclops, he cannot escape!

There were many, it was illegal to have a pessimistic weekday, a worn out, useless desk and a climbing Sisyphus ticket: Insufficient - mostly - and sufficient. The crossfire of promising grains of pride, and the pathetic judgment of the Inquisitions lurking in the eyes: “Let's see! Who dares to do more and more ?! ” - There was a murderous rage in the hearts of the people,

"What did I know then: What can I expect?" "Destroyed nervous system, suicidal pessimism?" Nice promises or Janus-faced compromises? In which the victim is always his own scapegoat! "In the conscience of the people, they beat a homestead and strangled it with stigma stamps, handing it to you as the title of loser, as an honor in the camp of innocent fools!"

There were many, it was illegal for the pessimistic weekday, many were the self-destructive consciousness of Nothing: that you would stay that way, but only the Apocalypse-bad guys rushed at me every day; miserable, trampled on, destroyed! If I look back, I can still see it as fooling and humiliating the germs of youth in slavery, the reliable cornerstones of spiritual libraries, because “someone” mentioned the word in defense of imaginative and new ideas! And still, I can only guess: Did I get the magic D-letter document in exchange for the omniscient silence of my silence, or just for the awareness of my sooner liberation ?!

I watched her! He was there every day and stared with enchanting roe deer eyes, and there she always stepped one step in front of me, as if he were secretly leaning towards me: he was leaning gently on me with his amber curls and wishing for shelter beside me! "There's always some cracked vulnerability left!" The stern eyeballs were also amarra: Execution squads, murderers, examined the unfortunate speaker, while in his awkwardness he failed, failed, or somehow went down. "But where might He have looked, where did a burst of nimble clouds step?"

In the emptied and worn summer maturation, his cold and warm atmosphere stretched his temper. Only loneliness is what left me with loyalty, as an acquaintance. Where a camp of preachers aged in the valley-cauldron of mountain giants represents moral values, as in their words faithful orator-prophets represent Unity daily!

They look right and left and I can only examine why the troubled emotion could be completely ruined in short-minute shards, once it stumbled in front of the door of our hearts ?! "And how long will it be possible for us to conquer each other's indifferent lips with immortal kisses?"

We don't even know anymore! But from the dense image obscurity of memories, we often weep back the Eden drops of our still bitter love: Maybe our perforated wound hearts can be successfully divided and filled in a single moment? Maybe it just doesn’t matter just the thought?

Our neighbor roars at her pampered child again. the gray-knocked prison walls are still crackling and shaking. The constant bombardment of nerve pathways is already unbearable. From the shining saints of the stars to the continents of lanterns and lanterns, the dusty night shines.

The little guy, with a hysterical, demanding mood, searches the wheel tracks of his missing bike like a magic tricycle that can fly him to the sky, but he only finds an aluminum floor worn into yellow parchment, an iron lattice drilled into the islands of panel elements! I would comfort a handkerchief or a pleasantly sour rubber bear so that the lost earth harmony could return again, and blue, red, yellow, green,

delicious little taste-snacks, rolling down your small throat like a huge grab with my tiny hands in my bag! "But what I imagine is that the proud foundations of a possible friendship can be laid," I murmur to myself. "The boy continues to demand hysterically - and more and more, and the neighbor;" an orphaned young woman is still clueless about the more playful issues of upbringing and tolerates child tyranny with gentle Joconda patience!

It's day again and again. My heart pounding and straining again, and every moment what existence obscures! The ancestral mercies of mercy are not yet reserved for me! Sometimes a rusty office door squeaks loudly, - the reading of names is heard aloud, in a silence pregnant with ******: the messengers, the philosophical nebulae, the green-eared ones go to execution in order.

The patented buttons of a dressed-up, masquerade suit cracked over me in a cauldron of stifling heat when it came to testifying about the knowledge I had acquired, because one could hardly do anything else! “During the day, glass and crystal palace-shaped tear-***** rolled down like soft and gentle praying screams in the grooves of faces: the immortal vibration of fear artificially aged us to our humiliated moments. It’s as if the secret law of hopelessness on this planet is asking for admission - but no one is afraid to hear it. He was praised by a camp of eminents who knew everything better

licking soles with brighter spirits! - I wanted to know, unravel and recognize the ancestral-One secret: How can the justice of merits really work? With delusions, nail-boggling - surely I have encountered more than the humane speech-charcoal! But only the adolescent revenge of legitimate complaints, of judgments flickered away from me; unworthily and sincerely as it once was

they were called libraries of the brain. The creative intellectual workshops may have closed their proud gates forever!

I walked there in motionless minutes. Down there, captive to sand dunes, romantic sunset. Helios' proud sunny island smiled only to herself: sparkling and sparkling. And I secretly wanted to scream madly inside my heart into the crispy foams of the waves: Note the Sea that we can stand here in pairs with each other's One-hearts, clasped together like in that characteristic sigh-minute.

We walked hand in hand in a budding universe. Somewhere I wanted to unravel the secret of his sad and bohemian lover, his unknown magic: How can he scout her sand-grained body with the kisses of waves while unspeakable harmony, otherworldly promise rages between them? “Your scorching sweet chestnut eyes revealed top-secret secrets, and you ran across the shore competing. The delicate strands of your amber hair were tangled in the wind!

Did I soar? Did I imagine? Or am I just disappointed? Or I could only have been a passer-by of immortal accomplishments that you, if you can be with you, sink into self-forgetful dreams of self-forgetfulness: knowing that you are drowning in Eden kisses. And I swore! Always calling on the Truth to you: Unconscious magnetic pole energies attracted, demanded, called you, and you could be greedy and insatiable in the only Heureka minute that demanded the immortality of Existence…

How much have I pondered - incomprehensible - and how much have I postponed? I can't catch it! I would say. With a true-proud and perhaps whimpering consciousness, to whisper only to the pure light atmospheres of my eyes, what thoughts, moods, emotions I cherished for Someone who gave up trampled on me. The happy fulfillment of the universe can be here on this earth two sparkling, fire-piercing eyes: a tiny dance of teeth, the body speech of tongues in the palate, in a system of organized tissues!

And for in every kiss the elusive charm of immortality flares up; passions collide in the wake of heroic battles. The crease of lips and faces shreds each other after midnight! And in the end, each one breaks, hangs, and finally merges with the fulfilled universe again with united force.

The shattered, sultry bars of the night melt into themselves, guarding the sleeper hard! - how many unearthly, cheerful minutes the cubs wished each other, in love They are True. You have to feel, search, discover the pagan spells of fulfillment, your hidden body landscapes! The smiled and gifted smile once again stretches the drunkenness of emotions for the last time, and the yoke yokes of lust also dream of a fulfilled redemption.


And because the expediency of goals fills every foot of the essence! None of them are wrong in the sure decision; their circle is driven by a circle of conflicts! "How much have I wondered if I should do enough, act and confess!"