The interiors - perhaps you can barely notice it - shrink into an increasingly narrow mouse -sized cage, in which the free -born soul stumbles. The image of your face is just wrinkled, washing grooves, it is not yet known whether the dirt or just aging.

Subject to reflective misconceptions, not only who you were, but nowadays increasingly who you could have been; They are very ******* with unbreakable threads, as are the habit of tied fools, or the pigs taken to the slaughterhouses, and you can't understand yourself; In the old, grotesque world in which you were forced to prosper as if the cross -sections of the interior were becoming more and more scarce.

You could hardly recognize the smells who just stopped by you, that you. Is it good or malicious to a person hidden in the given branded, expensive suits - at the same time towing, knocking, treading, or, if you like intentionally, it is necessary to not only only the Alamus ants in this world, but also the unworthy Caesar.

There is no one who can speak to you as a wisdom of libraries, and you would listen to you with interest, because you would feel from the inside that you can trust it, so you can give it to your true, real simple word. - The memories of the soul that are embedded in stories so they quickly fall out of bribes.

There are no abandoned houses to be considered home. On the sharp pebbles or is forced to balance while your legs are wounded by the stone; It would be good to have an inner map that leads to an encrypted guide that would whisper the one-to-one as a gullible heart: maybe it can't be too late, maybe someone is waiting for you!

The silent, quartz frictions of the silence may even enter under the skin, just like most of the lousy, slippery creeping worm. The silence that increases the silence may now seem even bigger than it knocks on the wind, swearing. Words, like the tossed stone eggs, are often turned against each other. He had ****** in with his digestive juices, while the bottom of the research eyes had long been dug and crumbling.

Man seems to be trying to force himself into a perpetual rogue or lying role nowadays, which he is forced to endure as an invisible protector; Many things can be crouching - but feared - there is no use, no value.

Along the silk cord, the wealthy people are now drawing a border price that was once a community playgrounds or nature reserves, but they can parade on snow -white luxury yachts, and they are already plenty of it; The realistic reality seems to be more and more sandy, and sooner or later, as an uninhabited Sahara, everyone would perceive themselves.

In a human look, lonely stars have recently been captured and can not deliberately find their places. Because now we are very good at not standing in everyday life; The bubbles of minutes, like the airships fall apart, sounds like a curse for decades of Sanda speech in common slang or thief tongues.

Now, as if he was driving a wind, cloudy clouds jump over and down with a brief grasshopper. It is as if he were a prisoner of time, which he had never let go, but many times he is in prison if he doesn't pay attention enough, or his ever-acting attention is wandering away.

All prisoners of the age of the modern mass man are to avoid this temporary fact -at least for the time They like it.

Gigantic lottery game that -involuntarily -is now involved, and although he has long been aware that he should have left the cheap chase of small -children's dreams, but no one is so cheap that he even tells himself - Although nothing is excluded nowadays.

The eternal one of the Nesse was always followed by a shadow; With a broken cheap momentum, he finished another telling card circle because he was eagerly chasing the momentary reputation, buying happiness, ownable economy, even though he knew it was no use, because it was just a silent voice without a sheet of emptying!

This is how it slowly becomes the practical action of persecuted minds of everyday cheap-elementary commercial days.

Now I am drifting toward an invisible, swaying goal, even a sailor in storms; I go tirelessly lame, I stumble silent. The fog-filtered, stupid sunlight is now dense; You can hardly point to the direction, while outside, the world and the wise man shrink. It was as if sorrow, joy, it were a drink, and he couldn't let the dreadful doubts and haunting fears melt in the crouching of the soul.

In the maze of the brains, the memories that are considered lasting can soon be on the path of stubborn fading if memory goes bankrupt. Because now - it may seem like it - the average is stifling, and the inner circles, which used to be tempted, would have to step out and wanted to stay. While it would be good to believe that free-to-beer is stronger than the wild baundy hand that destroys and never builds, they are an unequivocal shortage of the otherwise uncertain future.

In the sneaky, knife -stalls, they even wander splashing, playful dolphins, even if the angels require money, petty materials, without really getting married, chessboarders are cheap, pathetic figures with ulcerative stomachs, Checking wooden heap, settled, drunk, far from sanity. One or two social workers -looking at them -but that is the maximum.

The huge gear of work is unnecessary to continue to oil and polish, as the thousands of bustling ants are vulnerable to the lords of the compulsive, until you can do it for cheap hunger while the Darius Muri Muri is upstairs. Social crossings and bridge beats between gaps seem to be intentionally no way.

Freedom of appearances - you don't even realize - drunk, and later, in your durable disillusionment, is drowned much later into permanent nausea. With stolen time, you may not always be able to treat 100%even so; You move in the orphanage of your closest familiar friends, as if you were no longer there, or just intentionally linked the lines of a pathetic, small -style life.

You think you are compromised with yourself, and that the curved mirrors were telling the truth when they showed a false torso image; Behind your childishly horned-naive face, the waves of decades echo silently, incessantly. At the zebra, the urge to commit suicide is caught; When should you step out of this confused, superficial world so that you wouldn't be able to live here?!

A lost romantic moment -if it had been -could hardly compensate for so many stigma seals; They said that they had not been fired now, only forced the expensive suits in a temporary exile, which you even openly know that it was always a roar.

It would be good to cling to the unbridled scream of seagulls, but feel that you can fly and discover new places from the very, very low, lean severance pay that the powerful directors have been pushed to you. - True, true! Now you are just a ruined debris wall, a tile without a fugue that can fall and break on the ground at any moment.

You know, it is not good for a long -term shortage or the everyday brainwashed indifference; Rather, stay yourself and don't believe in unnecessary rumors that things will change! Do not have a condition in your existence or as if!

In most cases, one would not believe, unfortunately, not only criticisms, not only criticism, scalp -like remarks, but also the trumpet archangels blowing out the sinister trumpet. The lies are now increasingly small, pathetic, as almost everyone has become a deliberate compromise and made a bargain or a good pact.

Now, it may seem that the desire for glorious fame is in constant, even in the hazelnut brains that have been brainwashed; Human life is everyday, small -style, little hell of time, unexpectedly, unexpectedly. Now, the latent roots of the desire for power are increasingly wanting to gain from the earth, his deliberately ruined life again, venturing to the light of the world again.

Well -sounding visions have now been infected in their vanity that you. The beauty and glorious model industry will perhaps spoil them for the rest of their lives, and will be treated as queen, and while the average is only increasingly burdensome, pleasing, and in lasting unhappy, the robot.

Momentary, calculating pleasures, reconciled unhappiness, they are disturbing, crossing the labyrinth, deliberately uncertain paths. And waking up on the boundary of the dream, with half-paths the next day, with its visceral headaches, a few raven birds swear over a continuous, unprecedented head-up heads. Who knows if they are just waiting for another winter or for another start?!

As if he is now more likely to choose a long-term deficiency, secret nirvana-nothing instead of manipulation of the loud living; He does not even notice himself, as he behaves - perhaps - as the brainwashed wickedness, lubricating, damped indifference is the greatest enemy.

In decades, it is already a plenty of action adventure if you feel inside that you can only count on yourself, if you are left alone. He is deliberately trying to find, in the depths of selfish moles caves, to find the bustling, possible questions of existence, and often no longer understand who, when or where he was able to make a mistake and bribed.

You know, because most of the many crypt-faced people are pathetic one of many who are the subject of total ridicule, but still try to never complain. And then, from time to time, like a ****** rickshaw, the average is a silent rebellious protest from the average, -true, to no avail, because on the one hand there are even more important and important things on this earth; For example, who steals, embezzles, or cheats more - and while he thought the happiness he found was just that he was within reach - he barely noticed that he had been buried alive, the unbroken, cynical, bitter -smelling small -smelling Calvary ...