How could you know what the sweet-sad childhood remembrance, the playful joy, the childish-naive curiosity, could have been known to the moment, when the sacred gates of free sense were secretly adopted by the understanding mind, the maternal care.

That the footprint of the long-standing eternal love may never disappear in the periodical limits of the time, as they are now in the depths of the drummering perits, and as dormant Atlantis Continents are still patiently waiting for them to be re-addressed in the name of sincere emotions.

It is often so worrying everyday life in Sififus's burden on how dark the clouds are sitting on each average human heart. Or  
How unfair was all the bice-shaded bumps that we once learned to walk, and while some were crying and giggling on the ground, others sprinkled themselves and went on, glorifying the joy of movement alone.

That momentary happiness may be worth more than the continuous forty years of lasting, the bitter -sweet, lasting isolation. That nowadays there are more and more worm-heart tarcks and fewer pearls in human stars.

How do you know that when someone as a teenager was not seen in the cross -section of the mirrors looked like a duckling duckling - but the one who was meant to be. How could a crowd know what it is like to be ill in the deadly round of the dear unexpected-suddenly minutes, and the passing away from birth is captivated. I say with questioning sadness: You have no idea!

He starts, starts every day, and the man is unable to wipe the rush from his face. Between two rushes, they have a finite judgment in mortal times. A prudent citizen clings to tomorrow's momentum in the swinging stream of tomorrow. And though you know it will lose forever - you can still pay attention to the solid throne of the dawn.

The happier life with a bread-scent cannot be the unfortunate, stumbling-stumbling shipwreck. Prisoners of warfare stands for watching a hunger at night…

In cool, snow-white robes, they are in succession from the memorials of unworthy past and good friends. The handshakes that can be obtained as a win-win gift also made each other a *******-alleged promises, thread, and light-blooded vows.

Darkness on the syrup puddles of everyone is welcomed by betrayal. It would be good to open the onion peel as a wise man to declare and grow more liberated. The reverse embodiment of Marcona's wax puppets constantly testify and remind me of shameful conscience.

There is an anxious hope under the bush hands or pearl nails. Often, they are desperate for yesterday, and they crave for time. There are no more prodigal refuge in the reality of objects. Most witnesses are cowardly, while judges stare either with a dead deafness or persistent, unstoppable indifference to the outside world.

The tabloid and social media are full of root-nasty calculating glances and unnecessary shapes. Whose solid and faithful friendship could have been disappointed in every bush when they go for the recesses of celebrities in the face of won!

The truth is that it is a lot of trouble if it is a shame or failure to end a goal or a planned idea; Not only is the lasting doubt on two shoulders, but also the most distressing, sigh of self -confidence that kneads the stem cells of my soul every day. Rarely, in direct proportion to me, I can walk in the rectangular corridors that can still be accessible. Sanda's compulsion is still stretching if they do not pay enough attention and take it too seriously.

It would often be better to examine the details that are meaningful; Motioned from hair-to-hair, groping, to see if they could still be discharged by the much-awaited whole. - The often unexplored, dense crowd of the years is now increasingly vague, with a safe, rebellious crossing, as everything and everyone alone can only be warmed by missed things; What is it unable to repair it like this or another?!

The wind blows through the unmatched spiritual wounds, the healing and the redeeming intention becomes unreasonable if they notice the scrubbed, squeezed routine, as well as the bargaining. - He collects a crashing colon mad feather like a multicolored, beautified memories of the metamorphosis of the seasons, and in many cases, he doesn't even know if he could only be a passive, patient guest in the big whole, or just a more special but more special dust ?!

It is as if, as a intended intention, it was constantly going on, and even the stupidity of the free-thought minds is to be held; Now, beyond the world of tabloid media, the so-called. In the world of cheap, diluent-smelling influencers, which have been abandoned to pop culture, there could be a growing ruthless, almost intentionally brutal-hard competition for the sacred favor of followers and lyrics. Because now it seems as if all and everyone is a cheap, bribing, pathetic Jibs' sensation not only from the wide Cyber ​​network of mass-information digital channels and networks, but also from the increasing decade its rather heating and determines it.

Now they can't dare to listen alone to the reasons of the already completely left -handed, which can be made, to be logically built -in clichés, because they are better off telling others what, where, where, and especially how to do it.

Personality as a temporary or if you like; an intermediate individual, no longer satisfied with the unrepeatable magic and perhaps specialty of the individuality of the individual. Cheap, dilute, reduced simplified sentences are grinding many cheap celebrity presenters on TV just like on the digital wavelength of commercially secured radios, and of course no one guesses, and knows that if pseudo-hazug news and rumors replace a poem, Perhaps the average brainwashed, hazelnuts of wild juggle men would be able to re-discover the small micro-capabilities of their thinking using autodidact methods.

It is as if this current vulnerable life seemed to be a pathetic, complex tangle, from which a safe panic-free release from a safe manifestation on asylum routes, as well as a fled mailer!

Pudding test

As if you were at the same time in dialectical interaction with everyone; Instead of slowed truths, the era of deliberately accelerated lies, decisions, and beautiful ears were now. The bankruptcy of redeeming traps seemed to be a minute-to-one, as the events of everyday life believed to be rock-solid are merely repentant for those who stayed here.

Now everything is so uncertain, vulnerable, translucent; A gesture, or a attractive flirt-smell, a holy guarantee of given handshakes that create new career opportunities at the same time, but at the expense of everyone else.

Whether the manipulation of status and interest relationships would be easy to succeed. And while wounded hearts may suffer new, calculating, self -established pipe fractures where the souls who want to take care of the soul remain, who would have the job to heal the spiritual wounds?!

Somewhere halfway between quilting and respect, the Almighty point had long been lost: you. that they were once raised for mortals and people, who, in the company of the masses, became mobs by the time to change.

Chewing gum mass, sticky slashes have become the feeling or simplified confession; List thresholds -as you like -can only cross one average during a single shipwreck. Is it more difficult for the mere defiance to be more difficult if the conscious doubts are not haunted daily?!

Now it is resounding again, the spit-out, wild brutal romanticism, which is what many brainwashed, nameless persona-CDs, pay-as-you-go kurafi call it, is distasteful. How the hell the distressing self-consciousness spews itself out into the world. "because everything is in vain!" – his basic feeling. The disgraced, poisoned saliva lips of prostitutes cite everyone to the meat processor of slaughterhouses.

No one wants to raise their defenseless head from the row of the yellow earth, where they have sinned with zeal, lying to the stars?!

In this upset, grotesque old world, where the insidious herd-herd spirit, arrogant, self-righteous, sole-licking idiots and party-faces sizzle with unanimity, the air hisses ferociously. – They are dishonored, destroyed, just like benevolent vagabonds; fake card holders rob each other if they really have to.

Even unarmed, the soul-flame burning on your tender body is more and more ominous and dangerous. Waving shadows strangle each other to their liking in the syrupy darkness. It is still permissible for ecstasy-intoxicated party-celebs who are dully recovering, if destruction builds a permanent nest among the ruins of their existence

The split schizophrenic ego disintegrates into its **** like layers of shells. – The extended waves of murderous silence blur the complexity of self-evident essences. The cosmic Janus face of murderer or victim is already going on. The long-term, general deprivation of the same goals is already the cherished dream-desire at all levels.

The tempers of the Cain brothers are now straining against each other. All of them are lone criminals still hunting themselves in their No Man's Land!

When the restlessness is also difficult to calm down inside, one day it may even happen that you will finally be able to make peace with yourself; when you will be soothed and comforted by the truer, more angelic being of your Beloved, who first gently bends over you like a sleeping birch branch, then hugs you, cradles you, like an orphaned child, maybe then you yourself can understand the complexity of the choice, it was always in you alone.

When Being weaves new ulterior motives and nefarious plans against you, you will easily find out that in this great, infinitely fattened, manipulable game of chance, which is now being played for the pleasure of the Galad World, you will feel that you can find your own lesson-witnesses even in your fall.

Even now, still sleepily, a little comatose, the small Odyssey-like readiness of homesickness hums and hums in your heart; you want to go, set off on a journey as if it were a continuous eternity, because you are unable to lose the weight of your precious, tiny life, thought to be shipwrecked, in one place, and you can feel as if the no-man's-day sin of everyday life would immediately crush the seeds of your as-yet-undiscovered creativity.

Take good care of yourself, because you yourself can face it every day and you can see it: the average person is regularly cheated and deceived by the harlots, bloodthirsty sensationalists, celebratory, pitiful scumbags, and greedy, unquenchable longing for a more luxuriously arranged lifestyle, which you have nothing to do with, since you always wanted to be yourself.

When you feel that others can pull you around as they please, you will need a gentle nickname and some truer words of friendship cut from honesty.