Now the sky itself cherishes more and more gloomy, sour cream *****, cotton candy clouds. Chubby angels - just as the sun’s rays run away from this non-existent time, they flee. I research and discover my literacy as an ant-taught self-taught self,

I often get a rash from schedule, longing for pennies - because what I want and what I can get is in many cases lost or sold out! You can survive! Number, if you can, just takes a breath of stuck sentences and stutters. I am a liar if I betray my heart! Existence now comes with a meager breadwinner - I’m a returning, survivable hedgehog again,

and if it's an invoice, or just a check when it comes - the intellect can't do anything else: Divide and, if necessary, break the law, cursing and suing my mind for money set aside and the suspiciously thin poems of my favorite contemporaries - the library ticket is only for students s discount for pensioners:

With our mortal lives, we are dwindling with restless, restless nerves day by day! Although in other forms, compromise and palalization are hidden - the Essence does not change, and it is the same! It grinds our meat bone-to-bone and devours it for a little hunger, free chewy munches and coffees:

Because a decent wage is only for the craftsmanship - we dug beautiful graves for liberating, beautiful hopes, so that we might bury our remaining dreams and wasted opportunities for good! In many cases, dawn is found in the worker: Sitting on a chair, the sleeping one still dreams bitterly…

Your wrinkles are multiplying now. The thought, the consciousness, liberates and cripples at the same time: The Old Time is still rampant on your trench wrinkles - but it's not a problem, it can't be a problem - at most it only grimaces in its vanity, you like it! May the cruel grace make you wise, besieging yourself among millions with question-and-answer answers, why were you the Only One?

Isn’t the glass of life a disgusted wormwood? A sure recognition binds you with a bridle and reins: You can no longer be independent, and you are free because you are stifled by the greedy death in the finite tunnels of your cells - you cannot break the siege ring that has been shattered around your existence like an unbreakable lattice!

Maybe then - if you will and maybe you run out of time - you will recognize yourself as the smallest, the most vulnerable all along: You will perish like dust in the unbridled wings of the wind, and insatiable and selfish in eternal love: Hoping to support and comfort, you will believe in being a social being!

But the proud consciousness: You have come to create, to create and to create will remain with you forever until you die - you will grow your faith and meaning, your knowledge; and you are hoping for a foolish mistake, or a conscious fool: perhaps your future will not be barren if future ages recognize the indisputable, legitimate fact: Applications, prizes, works that have won competitions are still appreciated even now - than forgotten trash cans, crouches deep in drawers!

Never believe in flatterers! - Be more confident in yourself: Whoever campaigns and operates with Responsibility and keeps the manuscripts is worth more!

They all stood in order: False witnesses, lying judges; and that was the greater pride he had - if the scientific Balek stuck on their backs - could be ridiculed and persecuted as a bookworm column. But the real Truth did not bother anyone - it was not the pure Humanity and Morality that was the important reason, based on sympathy, to explain!

At the same time, from the consecrated citadels of science, in addition to the deceptive burden of sympathy, he also displaces those who read all obligatory work with honesty: What follows: That is already a classic requirement of Shame! On the humanities track, the road is steeply icy, and anyone who is careful will soon climb to his seat! - There can't and can't be

individual defense, not context! - I keep crying and laughing at myself: Gentlemen and ladies, at least don't lie to yourself! "If you can, and the gallant stumbling may begin again — so that Uncle Samu would be more willing to pay you the budget head quota — what a clear favor!"

And he who has failed many times has deliberately ruined and humiliated the marks on the merits of linguistic history: They are silently still tolerating and resisting! - Choice None! The only trouble is that there never will be if you are whining and vain monkeys

exchange peculiar alpine messages: We are, at most, mere cowards and cowards, as far as those who soon rejected the rules of the Code of Morality: Conscience, Humanity, and Responsibility -

Not-so-respected exam-jury: On their boards, the One-Truth is proclaimed: Everyone is a lying accomplice who feasts in a hedonistic way, thinking from the lights of knowledge! Haughty ignorance, like the secret worm, devours the tyrants of the intellect if they are not careful!

Splatter - pretty much - I didn’t even know, in my beautifully ringing compliment-bouquet tongue, and yet you dragged it into your heart like a stifling magnetic clasp as if the secret gates of our souls were closed only to uninitiated eyes! Who is completely robbed of the experience of the universe of the Experience, the tangible moment: Like a cooling waterfall, I fell inside me

as recognition, it is the eternal connection of your being, and I would have been immersed in the redeeming waves of your night-black hair. “Now all my memories that seem insignificant are remembered from the charming autumn spirits of your face; from the indelible, comforting compassion of your being and in all my better days: When there is no pessimistic mood, nor sinking self-pity

scares me - I think of you, and I can only believe: From a distance, you ever do that, and you forgive me for not being a Initiator! - Irrevocably enchanted into my home, my second house, the visible imagination - I will be satisfied, sad, lean figure in his own rot: Perhaps bitterly, exiled by love: My dissatisfaction is already growing every day!

As a dream chaser, I would allow myself to hide in the camp of illusions of fidelity and devotion against a lost world of ordas: and were you the immortal flame of rampant Reality? "Believe me, and that's better than anything now."

it aches more permanently than ore and hurts apocalyptic!

Like Óbuda's brat - although I was born only on the road to Vienna, anno at the silenced end of the Cold War - this coincidence can be proved only by the suffocated amniotic fluid and the cracked placenta sheath as evidence - in fact, like chubby at the same time - although I had little to do with working with babies! In the section, my father is a bodybuilder,

and as a driver he was inspired and viribel, and my mother's poor lunar pathologists could not have done it with my gentler and quieter ghost patience! "Maybe the baby's throat got stuck in a tree?" What about this ******* screaming like that? ” - they said hesitantly, impatient - and maybe even then I started to cringe at the upset from the bottom, you won't be a sponge cake with your vulnerability!

With my roar, my desire to live, and this is how I cut the illuminating fuse out of my common sense: Family members couldn't grin anyway, "It's still a crumb!" - and then they grinned:

At the same time, if, relying on one’s assumptions, one doesn’t understand something - there’s no particular change now either. And I followed for years a year, and the desperate half-heartedness advanced in the small dweller and expanded into a large dweller; there is also a chatter-stumbling fear on the neck. But they had to live and survive in existence and escape the frenzied, insane heads of animals with a series of gloomy days: Gorillas subjugating body, soul, soulless and gazing, twisted their happier moods or fleshy hands. - The wounded, bleeding gloom of remembrance must not be forgotten at any cost by the selfish and appropriated need for happiness!

Although I would know how long and why? - I should stand in front of myself. The Consciousness numbs and makes me self-pity: I am and I will be alone! I have nothing to do with selfishness at most! It might be worthwhile to rush for more, more concise things: to rediscover family peace after friends and acquaintances, and to have the opportunity to knock boldly through open gates! "It's weird that we're relaunching the pointless and bustling game of everyday life - just cheeky sculptures:"

Do you run among the wreckage ruins every day with restrained patience and inhaled teeth: A wounded tolerant soul among the weeds of weeds and tares? - No one notices: Wise and satisfied patience will only challenge your members. And laughs that often start sneezing can hurt like seven-kilometer spikes! Being humbly cowardly is still easier and feasible than being shot in the barrel of common sense

Towards yourself possible targets s board up the dark *****! Therefore, if the gospel comes as a surprise that I have won, or won instead of someone — perhaps the equivalent of mere chance — I am amazed that my own soon-to-be-desperate sniffing pessimism will remain with me even after a day rich in values!

Either way I would try - if one could break out of the congested dams - but I can’t, I’m afraid: The seizure of opportunities is running fast as a fast train every day! I'm a mortal and hesitant! True! - Like everyone else: I lack help hoping for eternal salvation and enduring friendship!

He expands his two hands like the veined, delicate wings of whispering angel wings, and in moments of doom they would finally seize and embrace the one who was already gone! The gentle engraving of the rings of the year, the seal imprint is still moto, on the ribbed veins of the fingertips - there is an abundance of blood vessels, only our words can be accused of lying in the realized flame.

A handy fence, a prison barrier is often the Hand, he is no longer able to discipline his outcast temperaments: He snaps a paternal wave, a slap in the face, a kind nod! He clings to the scorching degree of agonizing passions - like engaged fidelity - with maintained loyalty and morality!

Sometimes the uncertain hesitation still settles on him, but he cannot forget the supplicating consolations of the embracing arms, - the belated confession of Don Quixote:

It keeps getting colder and shaking, and the Hand trembles shakily — when he looks into the other mundane heart-wreath with all-seeing; magnetic, multi-clamp, tar rope: Just one moment is enough; the eternally shining, immortal Heureka-Spark explodes in a bombshell, - the furious volcanic eruption scorches everything, devours everything! The sure grip of immaculate innocence: The Hand!

- Greedy Universe in flame, in the true pearl of our body, the sure refuge, retaining cathedral - Honesty, eternal, glorious Password! You can count on a sure promise who takes an oath by handshake! Because we can know palms of ancient-solitude wilderness can never be eternal!

Millions of illuminated celestial lilies. Saints guard and bleed the Lighthouse of Light, the glow of halos. Blindfolded silver-eyed: Spike-stars distant planets damage their scaly bodies to immortality with the strange tissues of the night! At once, all the headaches will be lost in them, and the wounded twilight will tear blood-flames!

Gigantic butterflies, night-watching grasshopper armies are chirping in the declared slaughterhouse of darkness - man with a gentle dream, now he can hardly rest! I can no longer slip to my liking in the mist field of milky farmers - I should sleep already - and I know that somewhere a charming angel is dreaming with me with a sigh!

Her restless and holding Heart was planting her clattering harassment - she has planted in me even now: My peace is threatened by my spirit wandering on the border of alertness and insomnia! My Adam-costumed body and its heated accessories get richly wet from glass *****.

The captivity of the ice cubes Anktartisz now tempts me so well, successfully, - my tongue, which haunts the immortality of kisses, glows and glows with a flagging instinct in my mouth, forgetfulness breeds among my flourishing memories. The distant Milky Way now froze in the funnels of lilies. In his sky, proud light giants flock! Planetary continents trained in cold fire-furnaces — conscious pendulum hours of calm and perhaps sure satisfaction — are an endless, always rearrangeable, and rethinkable question mark of Desire: Did I do well, did I do it? And can we avoid the spike of pain together?

- Conscious recognizability is found in the Gordian cycle: It cannot be avoided with knowledge!

As a precocious, warrior claimant, we firmly strengthened our mother's belly with an ancient sea shroud, where we would have been relieved of our tiny life in a wasteful, slimy spacesuit Birth: We soon gave our tiny life, which usurped fate, to the proud, conceited hands of executioners! - Feminine two hills brought to life the elixirs of salvation, of survival, of softness with a soft caress!

We roared of Being with the cries of Topor Cupid: Just notice in Life that the unique and unrepeatable Man was born again! Screaming with a trembling true pearl sweat, our mother demanded the basic laws of survival: Sacrificing our most beautiful tooth-clamping gift to us to taste the initial pitfalls of independence after the placenta!

The creator kills cherished clotted twilight nuggets, and the desire to hope again calls the Deeds into a secret duel with silence that distributes harmony; Joconda-strained every Madonna movement. And the ear-splitting rickshaws of our final deliverance were increasingly calmed by the rocking rock. Imaginary links to the world - we are connected, and Man has become a love that can be passed on to the flesh: With his greed he is also unconscious

demanded more and more! He also lived the Gordius cord, which was once more nutritious: What he once grew with the diligent diligence of a mother's bee hive to make the new life flourish richly was cut off sooner, and suddenly the consciousness tore at people:

There are also the blue people of the day, peacetime tummy dwellers! From the eyes of women, immortal Thanksgiving is now unstoppable and their worries are shattered in the love mill. They can’t even guess that the final countdown was born at the same time with their screaming!

Chain-eyed heroes served in an ore-shaped cliff socket: aggastyan wages are served, silently in the immortality of time. They preserve their past by listening to their vision of Theiresias. Lightnings also stand on time-worn wounded ridges, prophets of loneliness stand: Iris soares to indefinite heights With the meaning of Icarus, the thinking consciousness: It never gives up!

All the pounding noises are their murmurs, a majestic, terrifying revelation: Below the diminishing feet of the mountains stands an unfortunate village infested with its envy-morsel, - he utteres the smallness of Jericho aloud! The disgusted putts here like the killer spikes of bitterness

the illusory ideals, the illuminating morals, - the candlesticks of goodness are now shining less frequently here - the total attack of the killer-throated wolves that have ruined everything and everyone here - the Apocalypse is at home here and we are slowly recovering ourselves. - In an ore-hearted spine socket, silent truths are swept under the fluff of carpets, - beyond the wounded distant sky there is a stretched soaring golden dragon rocket lights. In the pure, unshakable bastions of silence, only the eternal human laws can be left to him alone: ​​Fear reigns at the knocking beats of heartbeats fear vulnerable personality consciousness

on his troubled, misunderstanding day he devours several times, a distorted mirage, the Peace of Appearance shines, if the wounded, pure-hearts do not do it! - In a granite socket, only they can be unbreakable septa, rock pipes that expropriate land: It crumples, whips the groove section of muscle chains and is not spared daily by the moody moody, raging natural disaster!

Now only the puppeted dawn awakens: The flakes that have cooled from the wounded sky are falling and wandering with the changing Time: Nature is still taking a blind spot while still betraying itself and has long sinned! The incessant carrot, broken skinned and cursing wound means no more people to accommodate! There is a petty envy of perpetuating disasters, pointing at each other: Just because the killer-simple blessing came unexpectedly from heaven! The heart: as a wounded pincushion, it still endures the vicissitudes of existence, and the grandiose Order itself believes: It has done everything it used to

imagined and what he designed as fun with vidor-satisfaction! Reality is still whining with its sufferings, - many people do not take part in futile struggles: with loudspeakers and ore sermons, pseudo-speakers reassure the non-existent: "We have done everything with human possibilities!" "Only the hopeful opportunity is overdue!" In recruiting words, trust has long since disappeared!

The brain is forced to listen, and convulsively forgets the gehenna flames of permanence! Human dignity descended into a castable **** — only a lack of eternal fidelity and trust — because we were afraid. We could maniacally dread the uncertain Tomorrow, in which the skeptics deliberately whispered: How can we not help? -

we received the trust and handshakes that remained in the fly with a thousand promises: In the depths of hearts, the shining patrol fire was seldom smoldered: Prickly, murderous daggers rumble on snowdrift battlefields - one cannot know, one cannot stand alone! Would you have lost the eclipse wick? Where did loyalty, the sure appearance of reality for each other, go? -

In the distance, an ever-fading echo is heard on the sufferer and the call for help - maybe no one is listening anymore! Even the last renegades returned to the mountains and show only wounded silence…

My blood rebelled against you: The mark of the One One or the exalted ones shone on your Pearl-shaped forehead! "Mischievous, kacky Saint lights were playing in your eyes, and my victim, you know, was heartbreaking." The dazzling, sharp knife-tip yarn of millions of sunlight trembled on the beautiful arch of your lips! How good it would have been to have the artful snow fields of your skin now with a thirsty flame of kisses

to envelop and know: Our silent heart beats with the immortal Universe at the same time - your vulnerable, girly smile, fit, virtuous will never show up again: Your radiance slowly fades around me into memory, an elusive dream - focus on killer crossfire!

You would still apologize, you might explain everything with your mouth - "That wasn't the case!" Please forgive me for being caught around by storms of passion! ” "I'm afraid there will be no boarding on the love ship several times!" You would have to dive into the all-forgetting, fast-paced flow of Being - so I can forget you forever! Your eyes have become relentless fireballs, my compliments to you: Empty word thumps, thrown-out, meaningless improvisations like the bottomless well of lovers from which the desire to get rid of is sure to be doubtful! “The glorious candlesticks of the long-cherished heavenly bliss have gone out in you; that you could be happy and satisfied - whenever you wanted next to me? Your anger as the icebreaker of the Antarctics as the assassin of ruthlessness has suddenly hit your heart - and it will take a lot of time

while in the spinning of mortal grains of sand you will recognize your missed opportunity for yourself! You might finally realize that the immortal flames of millimeter paper production and letters were just for you, alone.

On the winding serpent rolls of the streets between yellow and faded faces, I might know you if I want to: My selfishness and attachment keeps me alive for the time being! Where did you leave your beautiful flower-smile? And the degraded standards of villages stretching in the fertile lap of valleys? - the romantic moment of unification on the crested ledge of wind-torn rocks, in which the purple-roses of our lips fill the essence of immortality? "Now how much would I ask you;" here nestled in the eloquent silence of mountains, amidst yawning omissions, self-mutilating tears!

Behind me, the wounded twilight had just exploded. I stood more and more half-heartedly, and aimlessly, because I was shocked at the sober disappointment at the sight of your Judas kisses that you handed out at noon! How jealous would I have been? Come on! When the vulnerable need was pressing and I would have needed someone to whom I could speak, and because between the spit on the eyes, no one could really know and present only you!

"You will realize it once again when I stand before you, and you have to decide with your conscience: How to proceed?" Can coexistence still conceive? I can't answer! At most I can only feel for you, the fundamental right of a responsible decision belonged to you! "And now I'm thinking in a self-righteous way as a series of grumbles: What if you had humility in front of your feet?"

I would bow to the Essence: Irreversible, and unquestionable; What was so perfect about your other Knight in Adonis that in the depressing kiss-fire flame you completely melted and gave up your common sense ?! "Perhaps if you become a parent once and then you will understand," the broken, broken heart beats differently, it feels - the attachment of immortal Faith is never a trite flame, a foggy sanctification

You would surely search in vain for the place of the peninsula where we once stumbled: Its place and name only appear among the secret maps of your brain at most! In a dreamy age, the village is steeped in the subtle curves of swaying valleys, - now I still stumble myself here: Like the adventures chasing the thrills of a rusty iron cat, they are more frightening but not inspiring!

The incentive is much more frightening than it would encourage! Then it is more the lasting Loneliness, the loneliness, the active inaction of one place; Writing, word carving, different things! Among millions, you would be looking for your independence, your liberation from everything: you can only be an exiled, taunted son, because there has not been a son of man on this earth yet who has listened to you with patient silence. He has long been disappointed in mercy and compassionate and faithful friendships! - I'll leave my hand on paper! Let him ride and cover. I intersect hieroglyphs with protest indifference to Time: Its immortal eternity should not be threatened by the most obsessed Boredom.

Would I be amazed at the Mercies? I did not ask for mercy, only dying compassion for the fragments of goodness; sometimes it is good to escape into a warm, *****, worldless oduk as a target of sanda gazes, they cannot catch! With indifference, I keep listening to the half-sentences of Being: "Our budget does not allow for salary increases!" - In vain! - Wages, at a slamp rate, that hardly helps!

Anger, anger, swearing hardly use it here - it is slowly approaching half of my life, and years of service make mistakes as many juss columns when establishing retirement! I will find the peninsula, where my full harmony will be over sixty anno - afraid, I may never visit, I may not discover it!

In the face of people, you search for the impossible: the apocryphal obituaries of unfulfilled dreams, desires, and emotions, the tiny requisites of lives, which in one pair of eyes, in shocked recognition, are still frightened and manifest! You cannot be independent, free in your emotions and thoughts, because if you follow in the footsteps of snarling people, you will become an animal: And where is the universal pledge of a laughing and liberating laughter today?

Can you know yourself if you spit on someone or betray you? You live your existence according to a recipe - but you can't guess the answers, the repeated questions yourself! - You greet the salivating, chewing kittens of cocoons who do not appreciate you with novel kisses from ivory towers of fiction who feel alone in their fashionable boutiques in the plaza and the Poem, the poetry,

as ars poetica, state of being, or vocation-consciousness perfectly independent of their complacent character! "Forever restless, prophetic dissatisfaction is straining within you: to arm yourself with etiquette morals, and to cultivate love in knees of poetry like a knightless, jealous knight!" You whine about yourself and accuse you, “Perhaps you were worse and more old-fashioned than These? Did you think you could resurrect it in the hearts of ladies like the song songbird, the immortal Universe, from the salted Phoenician ashes?

No! Polite gentlemen have begun to educate your wise people, and books that cherish knowledge, and no one can ask you, "Was a rich restaurant your main attraction or your luxury verde?" - No and not again! - It may be that a secret duel of minute-people is taking place these days, and the bohemian daring of the beneficiaries also wipes out the remaining, last stumps of chivalry

- but in the eternal flame of passions to find and recognize the complex, simple connections of the present with pre-coded secrets of eyes and glances: The Magic! Two human Hearts can only beat each other for each other!

I just quench my bitterness, the stumps of my chronic pessimism, bitterly every day, somehow, so that I can recreate it in the midst of tomorrow’s struggles: I realized this belongs to the equilibrium state of the Universe too! Amit daily; kidney, liver, stomach are digested and transformed through a chain of nerve pathways. "That's why everything happened so fast, with a thief that was harder to swallow, gnashed and leaked, eternity began again within the prison walls the next day!" The events, the connections

in its immutability it would have been good to believe: It would have been good to receive the Prometheus hope with sewn-in pockets, and yet many wasted opportunities fell out of his holey hands! For among human-faced hyena animals one can only listen to the True, the Good: A faithful chronicle of beautiful words, immortal apocryphal thoughts,

and no one may surrender himself to him who has asked: Loyalty leads the hands of two burglars with loyalty as a sincere handcuff and with his breath! The hardest part is: Knowing and believing that the world needs you! And you don't have to be among your old filth!

I feel: The Important has shrunk. The single Whole has lost its meaning - today everyone fights on their own, fights and none of them can at least say: Cheap, material goods pocket, steal, or cheat, and others - or just because of their daily livelihood! As a livelihood for the now collapsed potential cornerstone of Morality, human hearts rarely circulate in human heart tunnels! Like biological mortality made for eternity, - it was destroyed several times in its day; As false promises shattered into a cop, the Truths, sincere human speeches, have disappeared: Here now Falsehood sits on the velvet of light-lost throne chairs,

you may ask, but why: You will not find the ruins of tears, the bridges of the vulnerable heart here! - Secret Dueling: Wickedness and evil have become a parallel message every day: s minute-human-blue daredevil-power is afraid to create and convey new fashions! Extreme age! I wish we could more consciously recognize the limits of the Extremes.

It cannot be enough, never enough, to have a satisfied Consciousness to assume its meaning and purpose with a reserved head and an outstretched back. The work done, the harmony gained - I say - if you don’t pay attention, it will soon collapse! As long as the body is ready to absorb the foaming sources of oxygen bubbles: We have lived on unattainable possibilities: Therefore, in its meaninglessness and futility, conscious struggle will be mortal, and the idyll: Responsibility. You are an integral part of the world, if you want to, if not! The screams of trampling and rude snoring are every day: Frothing devours all human selflessness, relieving humanity, the statistical war for overtime!

Your heart also trembles daily. he drowns infected in a sense of lack, yet he proclaims, “Pumped forward! Well, old man! Feel free! " - tomorrow in robot hell is close to the rewarded Goal, and the premium, but like all promises can only be pure, unadulterated True, if not bribed word! And it is futile to torment common sense in vain, - saying: Full harmony even!

Everyone is addicted to just everyday life. The given company drains the thoughts, the energies that have remained and are now in reserve! That’s why a tired mother already sighs peacefully in chunky dreams, in the depths of captive armchairs - even though it’s only seven in the evening! - And while the proud instinct of subsistence is on fire: Even on the heels of days, it is necessary to stack and do more!

The big opponent stays that way. there is a lack of money for skinny hunger wages! Fearfully, you will feel it yourself - the greatest deception that can ever befall is the Promise: what you know; It is never fulfilled! And he doesn't ask: Why ?! - Momentary happiness is what we can strive for with day-to-day predictability

HALK METEORS

I'm afraid because I can't trust anyone, and because I'm constantly disappointed - I only exist, even in the face of purulent scars, rocking dust! I try to look inside myself: What else can the secret map of my heart hide and how can it be even more lasting in biological material than ore? The lazy and monotonous minutes of walking through the alley of Life remain mortal until then - the eternal crisis of immortality is given to the happy legacy of star-eyes!

The perforated, leaked days are spinning around, squeezing into a vise, that you can't be with me - at most just in thought - and rushing around me like an overzealous gun, the assured fear is busy! Around me - I was afraid, I had already closed everything, because I was alone in conscious uncertainty: I was a stranger. They are stretched out towards me, even stretched by the cold indifference spikes of the ice stars. The cosmos is gaping in space, the black hole isn't fiddling, because I can be a kid again - if only for fragments - and rock in my mother's safe lap! "I don't know where to go, on designated, well-traveled roads?"

There that I have never been able to walk before, or are there risk-free beasts guided by poaching hunts that alternate war messages, cheap motherhoods? Then, if the protector Someone is next to me, maybe we will start with a definite undeniable pride, and with every perception of the blind we will unravel the secrets of the uncertain unknown Doom!

And perhaps our greatest sin will be that we have not remained convulsively clinging to us even in the decisive, defining moments - and we will forgive in the crater of our hearts that priceless tears will fall from the chasms of our soul-seeing eyes like soft meteors…

Longing and interest hold back and unite the World: The weak is humbled, the butane sucker does not learn, and bursting with a series of forced nods, he is laughed at by the tyrants! - At ten o'clock in the morning the swelling of them is still raging in the morning, whether in the restless sea the ladik or the barn,

predators that have dwindled in their stupidity, hyena-mouthed sucker-faces only live on! - The wake-up sleeper works twelve hours a day: we leave China with new peaks; we have certainly far exceeded the Bill of Existence. And while others use the easy galaxy method, such as ant-hacking hackers, to bank accounts with boring indifference and ease,

and as a cunning Trojan horse, they challenge meticulously constructed security, until then Gravity falls, and everyone wastes and stays in place: It's easier to prosper with sheep's bribes, isn't it? Though honor would be paid for with the cosmic universality of humanity - not as a favor of interests! - That's why I stay and still live with the promises of out-of-the-box - otherwise cheap promises of medicine

anyone can bribe, humiliate: Unrestrained, intrigued lies slaps the infestation, humiliates and sweatshows from those who always keep our noses up, as soon as the "Some" thinks, if they they set in their pride the proud, groundbreaking opportunity — to trample on just about anything that isn’t one-drinking with them. - They, with nice pity, would be cheap promisers to know the real contents of Truth:

task, and Annamari would also have nicely matched the pound poems from the letters: perhaps the universal Heureka spark of humanity could not be forgotten. The weak are malaysian in the cheap eyes of others anyway because they are much Vulnerable as witnesses!

In love, too, it is the most difficult to explore the meaning and essence of the very first volcanic eruption minutes, timed bomb moments: The temperature of goodness, the idyllic Hope, when the bombing kisses are at war with each other, they hope for a truce. In a broken heartbeat, in the biological recognition of cells, everything already exists together and in a chain connection! He sat only for about four years, and the Heart, like the Prisoner, endured with tension: He even knew and proclaimed fulfilled immortality! Yet when the musical clatter of others' lips was heard he suddenly tore apart

on the secret, cohesive spider threads of the Past, it was no longer possible to bring back: s Whoever broke through the murderers stealing the romantic scene in the provable Janus oath, was disappointed again! Between two extremes, the momentary remembrance moves away: The naked Truth sins in the Fall: And for Morality is already a commandment, a seductive lock of hair,

flirtatious, the reddish-brown gaze of redemptive Jocondas is enough to allow recklessness as a **** to grow into common sense - And ready is the digged, live-buried, breathing coffin: To whom we intended their lives as sacrificial offerings, it turned out that Judas was unforgivable, an ancient sinner! "Like a beast, an unbridled, silly, and unmanageable fly."

instincts also overwrite the correlations of your fed, sober brain codes; the ****** of the Universe has already slipped out of your hands with unyielding intrigue anyway! And if imagined days of harmony no longer favored you: because they betrayed you, left you alone, and threw you out: Don’t be ashamed, don’t give in to coercive relationships unless your Laws of Heart allow it! - It started for eternity, a lasting memory is still burning in you, fluttering richly: You just let your bitter crater tears drip!

In them, then, waking as a secret instinct met with resistance! Like Prometheus in the spikes of a nucleus, complicit killers in the atomic explosion of our emotions: We took advantage of the promising of immortality, the All-Inclusive, everything that can be returned at interest Minutes: The Irreversible - Reciprocable, Recoverable, Holy Transgender

which can be transferred to the organic part of our biological cell germ, can be received in the same way as the Universe! And in the meantime, we only sought to transcend our immortality by transcending in our own ancient pleasures — burned out — Yet together; in a single, pure and eternal Holy conviction we may be held captive

nailed moment! - The stubborn barking of our blood-wounds awkwardly becomes omnipotent: Eternal, learned, touching grace. We are echoing sounds that can also be heard in each other's heartbeats! - The consciousness of cell fission has reached the brain, we have often been stuck in the expanding flirtatious expansion of our intermediate time. Outside of us, through the colonized, colonized realms in the degraded Cosmos Space, the vulnerable messenger listens to it, listening to the vulnerable messenger: Intellect and common sense companions - an immortal needle stumbled and then reached the inner, comprehensive, and graspable boundary of the brain!

You said it yourself - at least enough: We're floating on a rocking scale. Themselves are the discarded, cracked sandbags of mortality: Who can know more? And who is right? Do the tiny billions of particles in our cells, the fissures of our molecules, serve our selfish needs alone or our falling instincts?

The man curls up. Available. And then he shrinks suddenly like a servant who has served a definite time. Or a gentle, benevolent mother reciprocated her gifted existence with her immortal cells: The tears of wearable vulnerability on our faces shine like the insignia! He works like a dragged workhorse for ten to twelve hours a day, and if, even as a candlelight, his sober mind consciously shines into the winding, serpentine eternity of loans, it never culminates. Tie a tie. He chases his strangling, uncomfortable, tight spacesuit out of compulsion, tolerantly: Maybe he'll have the long-awaited dream job. Safe money-screaming job, hard-working, livelihood investment!
the missed, never-returning immortal minutes of Being, he deliberately wasted: Swollen, his pretzel-back in fatal Time, - not only Morality can straighten it out! He explains his extravagant waste against hopeful and legitimate happiness — he finds only the hinterland of extinct, uninhabited pillows — and as a nuclear nucleus he is already terrorized by certain recognition:

He is Alone forever! - A prison camp of lonely stars illuminates a gaping dark hole-sky infected with empty indifference: Silent continents of space shattered into glass, like billions of stars, orbiting like heads as floating astronauts!

He keeps morphing and pondering: He cherishes the eternal truths of heralds: Heritage, as salvation, which changes in the security of birth, is transcended! The great scam, in which you find yourself dripping during your eternal work - how Nonsense in the greedy, incomprehensible insatiability of people, in the petty world of profit-making! Only what is careful, modestly always humble, scientist-hand-preserved, must and can have the eternal right to survive, while we also know the Masterpieces deep in the trash cans - there is a second possibility as the universality of Humanity!

It is smarter these days than an instigator - one sets a symbolic candle flame and attracts quite close, silently dark, and one must - because the Pandra hope always holds his senses, looking at the frozen, diamond continents: Tiny planets, what they preserve memories with their halo blast! - I would not have expected that easily recklessly irresponsible self-care betrayal violated kisses

sacred sacrifices, loyalty to love! With my tearful childish naivety, don’t let anyone fool me, play! Did the World want a worthy opponent against me? Or out of necessary cowardice, I made a mistake: I considered the possibilities of unnecessary risks, flirtatious flirting times!

But is it easier to lose a spiraled game if I told it with obsession and false illusion Fate, wrong decision? Why am I happy? And at the same time, why does a bite of being make sense when I hear his angel voice over the phone or via email? If I were to show off the anti-floats of my Adam costume with a hanger, it wouldn’t be much easier either!

Yet once, with the sincere weight of my words, I found refuge on the shoulder-shoulder of the universe-flame. And with his heart he proclaimed happiness as the object of not petty bargaining, and as a will to be won forever, common beliefs! Our chances of starting again - if any - have deteriorated significantly!

With our bounced happiness, we deceive ourselves, we lie more and more - who hid us with his secrets in his heartbeat, is he also a Stranger? The river Léthe cannot be enough for a complete brainwashing: The details and contours of the face are getting sharper! What couldn't have happened: One day maybe if you think it's good we could approve…

And as if we were carrying the shackles of eternity as a shoulder-pulling responsibility, my uncertain vision is crumbling:


There are no answers to my unconscious questions - a wedge of thoughts for my vulnerable brain: A shelter solution!

If he loses his sure ground under his feet and falls into a chasm, - he writhes, digests himself, his conscience splits, throws into a moon crater, a degraded heart cannot feel! You will only see the indifferent blood of crystal shards if you look at yourself who has lived better days!

He secretly puts his broken existence on a Justicita scale and carefully measures the battered depravity of the mass of flesh: he imagines the happiness of the obtainable Universe and, as an expropriated property, is disappointed if he is deceived and rejected!

Charming, flirtatious looks
stuck in the crossfire of a keeper, a flaming primitive-animal instinct is trapped: Explanation is forced only on the threshold of a lie, once loyalty and oath have become taboo; despised into uncharacteristic bagatell data! He is constantly looking for role models: He would create an epoch-making self-image from the lesser-known novels and poems of fiction: To create knights, exemplary heroes - and even if the media that drowns stuck people is right! - Momentum, persistent enthusiasm, draws the bow like a nerve on fine strings,

and it hangs in the general, preserved guilt! He is scratching himself, his self-pity reaches the skies, and when his entrepreneurial spirit is revived - he no longer dares - the risk of diabetes of the adrenaline rush forces him, and in himself commands cold-blooded, sober serenity! Fighting with ourselves is the noblest struggle - and our self-knowledge can help if we turn to ourselves with empathy:

The echoing words of repulsive squabbles and old-fashioned bounces bounce off the bastions of unshakable Morality! Don't waver, my soul is never vulnerable! In your birth-conscious death-consciousness, do not give yourself

Today, I wouldn’t feel the real, merchant-killer glances at the Real: Are you superfluous on this planet? Maybe I will get out of the absurd cycle of Existence sooner? My friends: If they were still, or have been, or could be - they gave up on me as micro-minutes of irises they disappeared like a bolt of lightning! Everyone already knew and guessed, they didn't tell me the hard-working outsider, the thinking ancestral hermit:

You have fallen out of human graces, wish baskets for lollipops! If, as a diligent, constantly repetitive, edible Sisyphus, he looks up steeply and selfishly finds the abundance of stones he has fallen back on the mountain with his stubbornness - the Prometheus struggle is meaningless as the only sweated whole of Existence: He himself is a tragic hero - nonsense

he swears out his small nothingness every day, cursed with eternity, - in vain - but continues by faith in good faith! All-seeing, petty Gods will only have mercy on their vain calculation once! - If I, too, as this grotesque tragicomic-hero, learn: Why do nothing, and make everything that counts,

interest-forged man-pushing, humble endeavor — and I could deserve to be free to roll myself over to the other half of the mountain with easy, vicious steps, with a sure faith-consciousness: I once did not do my bitter work repeated in vain; Would the majestic lightning of Zeus strike me? Or maybe in their pride

can there be human well-being and pity even among petty leaders? Would they give sure handrails in eternal trials, the wise counsel necessary


- Where can I go? And what if I didn't fall into the gaping bottom of the depths in my helpless, petty loneliness all the time - as a compulsion to the point of death ?!

Thirty-one? Is it true he approached sooner than ever! Can you believe it? With many of your rigores, you put the armored glove on the ground with a tearful diopter, but always with a raised head, you gave up and accepted without giving up! What about you?! For so long, they have not been able to reach the earth's threads of wide-contour ethers! XXI. century does it exist?

There is no bargain or consensus in the world of Tomorrow: Otherwise, anyone will be tormented! Did you just have the honest, pretended, True word: "We'll look for each other after college!" - Your words of hope echo in my head even now! Heed ,,! ' - I was forced to close myself and preserve our shared memories shining with an unbroken halo beneath the surface:

On every major occasion, I gave it to you with good wishes forever - while you knew everything about when you could catch up on my journey - and I had long since fallen out of surprise at everyone! All I could know is the ordeals of many years of fate tell me, were they for Nothing ?!

And when you were terrified, you hoped in my defense as an animal begging for help; because you felt thick pain in your lower abdomen. When you were lying in a hospital operating room, tortured with torture death as a trophy tied between surgeons ’butcher-knives while only your Appendix was removed.

A leech worm swollen from the intestinal tract of your intestines - have I complained or resented once? Among the many worrying, puffy fries, I brought juice and chocolate biscuits out of benevolence just to smuggle your mischievous smile back to the brim of your broken mouth!

Why aren't you by my side now, as you once promised? At least, if your good fortune brings it, could you message? What kind of friendship bond breaks up, breaks up so quickly? And why do I insist on a chariot that we never pick up, instead of permanently erasing, forgetting?

Connected with the Consciousness that I can hardly be on this earth, I can find a way out with a solution. Bigger — I don’t know how to get into confusion, to be upheaval: I might have been better off throwing the beautiful gold tiles of my memory among the permanently cleansing Léthe foams; Disgusted, uncleanly-filthy, I want to bathe in tears of innocence - while I can still -! The timelessness of the solution is what threatens the darkness:

Maybe I don't dare look at myself anymore so I can shake up the little man, who is I inside? I couldn’t unravel the stifling loops of Time - baguette questions magnified into elephants by Gordian knot problems giggle answers, they demand me! And I am far from shores every day, clinging to the graces of Atlantis at most

forced to face the unpredictability of tomorrow: without the full right of struggle, struggle: Perhaps my pacifism, which seeks peace, compels me, as conscious cowards, to hide the essence of Whole, Truth, in itself: a shell enclosed in a drift. - What penetrating, otherworldly words

they would be able to turn the true pearls of my soul out of their shells carefully to turn to the forgiving grace of the Sun: Sparking vulnerable values? - I tried to venture into dangerous mobs without panic, laden with common sense: My thirst for driven knowledge!

Perhaps it is the cure for unhappiness that protects and does not let man on the brink of bribed illusions and disappointing disappointments! "I must remain silent until the end of the world, so that, like a subtle dust-thick rainbow and sunlight, I can shine more honestly, forgivingly, and more fragilely through my conscience!"

The Creepy, Spacious Sense of Fear: The awareness that they could be easily threatened at any time, surrounded by the possible imagination of a trampling, a slayer, as a conscious sane among assassins

Warmingly, on my face as a mother's forgiving babbling, you ran like a swan wing with your caressing, artistic, vulnerable hand: Many times you thought you were sick of not giving yourself up like the secret maximalist notable mark: You spun! And you have crushed your vulnerable glass beads in your eyes for your pain!

But you were strong, responsible then; you kept constantly reviving the wandering flames of the tear of my urge of despair: "Don't give it to me just for once!" "Your tiny, kind hand soon, minute by minute, dispelled the clouds of my pessimism from my head." - comfortingly

you could only babysit. As an encouragement, you promised your eternal friendship as a gift - I should have protected the palm thread of your destiny on your ruddy network of reddish veins, with the kisses of hero-lovers in a timid and silly way,

that the budding minute in which the fused infinity of the two of us was fulfilled should be eternal! The sword-hand of the Adonis — seems to have preceded consciousness, hidden in the alarm bells of heartbeats. Immersed in your impatience with your fleshy fruit tongue, in the bombardant selfishness of kisses. But did you learn anything from the Silence that made you

and was your person imbued with a breath of air, sure of air? "Now, in preparation for the heat, goblets of flowers are stretching in more and more unbridled fields."

Around the round, the golden sunlight greets the delicate nature with superstitious flows of honey - Who is babusgat, beware, protect your little hand? Where have foggy, nightmarish dreams and the belief that the Graspable Reality is not just a dream - but, derailed rejection of opportunities! Now in whose hand shall I take thy kindness, your understanding and goodness.

It could easily be that you will also be like this: you will be expelled, a bohemian-cheerleader, a ***** of cafes, a bed of potato bags and tombstones listening in their hermitage! Disappointed with a frustrated being-writhing, - your faith stops as a balloon jacket crumpled in the door of small civic salons! "You couldn't be smarter than knowing they were ****** here."
The play of the great scams was certainly about you - your free verses, labeled unsaleable, were densely ground by human, forgetful, tyrannical reason. In the shadow-friendly dungeon of coffee table tables, there is hardly a friend who is really interested in who can help you.

Welded prejudices surround you, set fire to you, and smoke - You know: Almost nothing has become easier, more satisfied, and happier with a decent civic occupation! Your childish soul, who is eagerly demanding in the bloodthirsty swords of critics of sleepless wrestling: You could easily walk like a bohemian cavalier

cursed as a ghost, like a cheap conscience beheading itself on the shores of Kharon’s barge: a shivering country of the dead, a peaked-backed Tantalos-fearer will not accept! Do paper baskets calculate your quantity yields instead of competent members?

Did blind luck alone win or squander? Human morality has long since departed from you! A dubious, fair-boy, comedian-like boy who emerges among the temporary sons-in-law struggles on dubious jancsis! - Robot minutes baptized with eternity moving on a chain: Working to the point of a nail is futile,

for the wages of starvation: When can you enjoy the fallen early and rotten treasures of Being? The mountains that testify will call you: The message of eternal Immortality is only One: To stand as an unshakable rock, as a last bastion, in a season of valiant, man-trying needs.

It was as if the Sun had once made an atomic attack on us: I looked at the blurry heifer patch of the universe and saw the knife-pointed light as a blinded wound! The Last Supper of Suicides, a heatwave-craving heatwave - an artistically composed, pearly sticky death! "Believe me, as stray drunk staggers who don't know about ourselves;" suspected, necessary malice!

I am commanded by tyrannical obedience to do what I could and could not do as I crush like walnut armor: I was tense in the rage of unemployment. - My mission is simply to leave footprints in the cradles of cultures as modern as possible!
Like the all-obsessed woodpecker, who with obedient indifference tolerates the watched stabs of thorny arrowheads; my essential eyes are wounded by the ray, the last straw flame cut from the sky, with lost anger - the public harakiri is already a public matter here! And they leave no spark of dignity to the innocent!

***-licking chorus echoes, "We're embracing, just wait patiently for your destiny!" "Counting hordes of enemies would grin their hyenas after the prey of cheap acquired columns!" Here the sudden-fame and the clown-stupidity is going on now! When will there be a well-deserved place for our valuable earthly things, which will last longer and be more lasting than the sure iris life?

Romance grinds mocking and rustic slangs: ,, Good ***! Are we going to bed? ” "The knightly-minded idea and deservedly polite English etiquette, puking here, has already become a miserable *******!" The heightened raging hormone nucleus of adolescence, the testosterone explosion is bubbling in everyone: a real dignified

there is no place for dignified, noble emotions - it is forbidden, and a bigger problem is that abortion: conception and the prodigal, irresponsible vulnerability of existence: Crying angels sink into garbage cans, abandoned paper baskets into eternal hunting grounds. - Mothers, too, are worthy Saints.

Self-depressing, bloodthirsty, lost wolves! Who won more in tearful battles: Who gave their tears as a sacrificial offering in return, or who wiped them away in icy death consciousness?

Neither fatherly deserved praise nor the babbling of brownish deer lashes could get us. My friend! Only oily bounces of the overstretched rope nerves, and the prejudiced humiliations of the failed exams and colloquium exams: It was the sinners who could not learn enough! You have recovered in your bravery - I have remained hopeless! - We're still standing

in the uncertain grips of the future, and we cannot know whether our Tomorrow will be spiced with uncertainty of existence? What we can do: We mingled in the crossfire of questions between nodding and good pouting bulls, our persuasive word preached by forbidden taboos! In the imaging, lying tunnels of appearance and hypocrisy, we wrapped Ariadne's threads, and in the fate of our excessive brevity, we were often trapped within the walls of a maze wandering into heirs!

We could have neither our honor nor our credit, nor our courage as a pillar of bridges - for you know well: If we spoke True, Brave, Ingenious, we have cut off our further path! We’ve been kicked into a lot of ordeal, and the ivory legacy of knowledge has been guarded as a choir of guardian angels lurking secretly with scorching eyes!

"Now that we've somehow trampled on the upper brain palletization of mutual betrayal, the ancestor of the compromise flickered." - No secure livelihood, no family, no consolation, motherly kills; swaying in forgiveness: Now, marching among the Congolese mountains of silence, all I can do is observe what he has done with his mutual transgression, his betrayal, in order for Man to have a yew-flowered career.

The final and only Peace, cooperation and understanding should finally be learned, and the child should not be slapped with slaps. The leap of clean, sober thoughts into the stalk, which cools the nuclear fissures of heated, aggressive tempers. Or just maternal, nursing care. The momentum of unconditional, grace-sharing love, the curvature of the immortal arc that can reflect the One Essence: Finally calm, not raging chaos, madness around me!

A clean, innocent, and babysitting nudge that patches the potholes of my desperate self-pity, chasing away threatening storm clouds of trouble! Acceptance, understanding. Instead of a whip-shower of mocking swear words, wise, patient all the way through listening! I would like a harmony like cliff eagles modestly distributing their hard-earned food on top of mountain cliffs: Air-free winged wanderers.

From a human point of view, to discover the diamond-like, flickering candlesticks of the shooting stars - because fatal marching and confusion has prevailed since common sense, and the footprints dug a fence-ditch, a fist-and-brainer, and few jobs. Killer claws squeezing the benefits of strained, thick wire hedges that damage rusty tears, knocking on secure doors to win the keys that redeem from a stifling debt spiral

where prejudice and incomprehension do not answer the question - and instead of the camp of bagatelle bargains, the indisputable need for universality of Morality accepts it! But when? Where? And how? The same meaningless song: ,, A job has been filled! The choice was not for you! ”

- I would set out clinging to the beautifully ringing roast-pigeon promises and plunge into the lost chasm of the twisting catacombs: But I preserve the law of my principles and defend them as my only treasure of destiny, in the possession of my conscious fall!

On the last day, your immortal incarnation was confused in my heart. I would have flown into your arms carved into a swan wing like a raging and yet silent volcanic eruption: A lava river fluttering with laziness. The university corridor was a squeezed fish canned smelter. And meanwhile the monotonous rain fell in a downpour! I look back and forth at the more infamous portraits in the history that have been served, and all the way through his cheap, heated brain tufts: I will escape from here, and you will be greeted with a set of kisses!

You bit your sponge into each other's lips like leeches, greedy carnivorous flowers in silent fulfillment, and you, already drunkenly squinting, jumped into the arms of your cavalry as a bakfis chimpanzee girl: The sober connection between your brainwaves was lost. I can't remember every detail anymore - it was so long ago! Silent, wounded tears welled up from my desperate eyes: You saw everything. And you may have felt it, yet you didn't do anything redeemable!

In the course of your raging passion, as a betrayed annihilated, I didn’t even look at you — I just started flipping through the ruins of my lost happiness: What could we two have ruined? Then you left as the ever-renewing Prometheus mermaid because the message of your kisses was stronger, your wounded, judgment-preaching heart! - No one cared about my annihilation, and I felt

that I am involved in a Janus-faced deception, and in the depths of my soul an offended scarlet-bill is burning with ever-raging frenzy! When you parted in your kisses and faced the shock, I couldn't take your flaming hands anymore - I had to consciously break up with you alone as if both rainbow keys were perforated!

I couldn't understand why I'm still running hopelessly after you? - but it's scary to know nothing about you! Why do I keep the ancient, immortal monogram of your name anyway? In my perforated heart, you are still expanding dark holes and always wounding my heart guarding its crater cavity!

Whatever star-flowered, balm-wreathed night is: there is a monotonous, gloomy darkness here — and as long as I lie on my single bed designated as a bunk; Stamped from the scars of UVB rays, from the celestial stigma signs, I moan incessantly.

I can't forget you. I can't wipe you and throw you "tabula rasa" - like a sheet on the bottom of the trash - even behind romantic, immortal moments! You started with honest self-realization, and then with the greed of your kisses you bombarded the pillars of my fragile rope dance emotions slowly - I say goodbye to you with immortal eternity, but when you budge like a phoenix again and breathe with the meadow: Your tulip is always your favorite, babus

While I have to remember myself about the purity of my emotions, Scarecrow is disfigured, and like the accomplices of murderers, the two of us could have cut off in her flower, the universe threads of our love could not have been born. You have shown the more walkable ways of Macadam of eternal purity and sincerity, while forgetting the ladies' vow of decency, which none of us could do:

Blessed is my little angel! You're offended! You’re out in front of every fortress, like the hollow rabbit that you can’t run away from or dodge - or what you feel for sure, but you didn’t dare - like me - take the initiative to be the Last! Did you just promise? Shouldn’t you comfort your foamy poet with unforgettable happiness? But to hope for forgiveness from someone you betrayed in your Judas kisses?

Because you fall, you fall, and even if you want the sure impossible - you can't cling to it: Swan hands, no grace-sharing gazes, no voluntarily offered, helpful intentions! You are demonstrably trembling and shaking like a castle on a weak pedestal: Your destiny depends on a thin hair, over the Kharübdis gorge, while balancing your options with an untalented rope dance!

See! Your destiny is on the immortality of fallen people and they fall - do they recognize the necessary will, or are they left free to fall for a while? You are already experiencing the depth on your own skin, while the Disappointment of Nothing threatens to mediate! - And it would be good to find a shelter among the embracing arms, so that you believe yourself:

You can't be alone! - Your heart responds to your fears with the ringing bells of desperate supplications. You would try to extinguish the flames of your doubt with your wooden stick confidence! The end-length of everyday life has no soul-killing eternity, as both praised and stigmatized

with your ******, lower need for life, you are still tolerating, while in the place of your conscience, a timer counts more and more resolutely, killer-vehemently! As a denied prodigal, downtrodden angel, you go mad on the culverts of streets: you can't decide — you don't even know the answers to the risks you consider: Should I cross the puddles of puddles or fall straight into the middle of bribery? -

The ever-restless intention of your blood drops into your ear more and more pulsatingly. And the unbelieving grievance roars in the midst of the judge: Why do we have to choose the whirlwind of the depths, even if the unarmed embraces, embraces him as a mercy of compassion ?!

They would hide behind the folds of maternal skirts that protect us for eternity, but there is no forgiveness! Approaching fear and loneliness follow the murderous way silently, destroying it with sudden silence! - On the other hand, you see the happiness of compromised, cynical gazes while tearing yourself away of tears

you hide behind forests! You are looking for a secure ground between the Janus-faced sky and the earth, and you will be afraid of being swallowed up by the alluring mud, the swamp swamp! For whoever can pay what he owes to inferior powers today: Overheads, bills, complicated calculations of statistical mazes - tomorrow he will be degraded into an extramarital alien, and his family will think of the futility of his existence as a lost bachelor like a lay philosopher!

But it's good to hide: With unnoticed and invisible pressure! No one can upset you, on the ruins of your loneliness: It would be good to find yourself back in the captivity of creative kills, to dive back as long as you can - the experience is fast spreading - the last stars of hope, the love Dawn of Love - are always by your side.

Even in your heavy dreams, treated with nightmares, they are easily liberated and comforted - yet you are more and more withdrawn, more and more half-hearted and distrustful: Your winged angel, although constantly watching, intervenes only in exceptional moments! You feel the impending, dull rumbles of people's vengeance: but then we have all sworn to PEACE as a vow of Holy and Inviolable vows, guidance in the total annihilation?

Meaningful, unarticulated responses nowhere; great, sunken, and suspended thought connections of the brain, - lips bang with wide-ranging, obscene words, and echo!

Silk bells in a snow-white tulle skirt - crater hats, white glowing tongues on the altars of their chalices.
In their fragility, even themselves are innocent and victims! Do caring or barbarian hands tear down the altar pistils of their fragility?

They close jealously, silently-hesitantly like cocoons, butterfly puppet figures, and greet the bleeding wounds of dawn with tears. - and even between so many intolerable and intolerable unhappiness to soothe our noses in their so good honey scent: hand in hand; On Mother's Day, we receive and give pearls and faithful diamonds for caring sacrifice!

An innocent Ladybug dances in the ringed lap of their chalices - I remember now a hazel-eyed girl: a kid jumping easily in the captivity of untamed mountains

that this piciny s protective flower is just us; he clings with his fragile swan arms in a fertile earth palm while transmitting to us the wings of our transience! A snail dropped on a dewy blade of grass, munching on nectar juices — the most difficult task he took on his back when he decided: You too would be carrying a single lifetime of silk petal fibers.

Like gorgeous, single-toothed fairies and goblins flew away. I will now preserve your eternal minutes, reward my mother with hand kisses, her innumerable, lion-caring cares! It is undeniable and unrecognizable that we say goodbye to every moment lived and meaningfully spent elt
A momentous, painful picture shines between our memories!

How does it hurt you that you can't escape? How can you not make a mockery of yourself for yourself either, a stubborn exception? You could not remain long-suffering in the camp of the impatient, - brave among the petty cowards - and your only love has long since renounced you! And as you shave your face, which has descended into a thorny bush, you are constantly questioning your soulless, Janus reflection: Why haven't you committed suicide in the afterlife?

The cuddly stingy fate didn't value you much either: He was thrown into the capital of life - and left behind day by day. With your petty and pathetic attempts at your self-pitying struggles. Usurper of the throne, years of loss of soul, desolate, shiny bullet instead of foliage: Kuglifej flourish! You already know for yourself: Out of tenderness, you need to show off the beautiful bouquets of your former compliments:

You have exalted faint Madonna faces on the altar of the ascending Goddesses! - You are exactly as the World has denied: Insecure, skeptical, unbelieving - either the hesitant Marsian or the experimental Sisyphus in one person; do you wait a day with sheep-vanity in vain to your dust and dirt, will your pregnant rock fall back to the ground, or will it stay where you left it?

Even now you believed: With a pure and one-sided childhood, you will discover every day, discovering your fool, Anti-Adam! And you can’t accept: The knight-romance of loves has long since been sacrificed. You are already an enemy to yourself! Your self-pity and murderous pessimism kills and recreates every day, and like the Phoenix You resurrected from hell in hell in a sacred cycle. Your insecurity opens up like a tomb under you and you know for sure: You fall and you fall freely lower and lower, torn apart, exiled and independent

What years are coming to us? What kind of person - planned deeds, actions? We hang our standing on the burnt-out altars of our affairs, and in the way of traitorous subjects we betray our still humane, revived Morals. At the gates of our souls, the eternal lanterns of conscience continue to rumble - they demand rights and privileges: Between prejudices and stereotypes

we close our friends and acquaintances: A recognizable personality that could have been loved and respected precisely because it is Vulnerable! - Here, even interest is charged to the innocent - our clinging, irresponsible and irresponsible everyday lives damage our positions, to fulfill our abilities: To unknown human heads,

we are humiliated into skeletal skulls - if we wolf-eyed in the loneliness of mirrors in our bathroom! There will still be plenty of gambling games! You can only wander hesitantly and uncertainly on stumbling stalks - you can't do anything else: People are afraid to live, to live with content for happiness to be fulfilled

he prepared himself as a whole, because their hearts had burned out too many times, he had been set on fire and disappointed - and he who cherished dreadful dreams himself sooner or later became disillusioned: his utopia could be fed, he could be bribed foolishly! - Bitter rust-chain wrinkles on the outside digest, while the flame of self-knowledge burns with forgiving grace inside: It is now poisoning itself, even polluting itself.

what more years will it take to multiply, to crumble again that Man; most valuable, forgivable speck of faith believe: You can do it! - although the World responds with barrier raises, downsizing? - Are you considering suicidal thoughts of your nervous explosions?

Will that make it better? You permanently disconnect yourself from the infinite cycle - it does not cease
the immortal world burning of your loved ones has tempted you several times in your days

You must believe, even condemned to the captivity of debris moments, that you have come into tangible and perceptible body proximity with your two eyes every day with the wonders of Goodness and selfless, devoted, kind Grace. Who can see and see in the dark? Whose adorable Adonis whose body is just handsome and deservedly enviably worked out, while his brain competence is as big as a holey big nutshell or nectar coconut?

Shouldn't souls be deceived by deliberate manipulation as long as your eyes shine with starlight and morphing with my excitement of patience? "And yet how many hopeless, missed moments could it have actually been, and deservedly yours, when you could proudly state: You can't love because you deserve it, and because you love it when you're a murderous flirt."

in their steam turbines they are utilized infinitely as the foolish half-gracious - only because he who is divinely known to you enjoys and flies. If you can be by your side in every eternal minute and open it together of your own free will

the sanctified sanctuary of your beating heart maps, the entrance of the golden gate - for you, the series of LIFE is still just an obvious question, but when do you count with yourself in simple, finite clarity? Your time - you know yourself well - at the moment of your birth as a timed countdown is long overdue!

But how much more independent, free, and easier would the consciousness of lonely doom be if its mortally iris-minute minutes of life were bordered by the promising immortality of Happiness? As long as you are just wasting your life on philosophical contemplations, someone will take care of your fads, your forgivable gossip, and care about you!

With Seherezade desires, cherished human-centered fairy tales, we believed and deceived ourselves: We instilled the instincts of our senses, our internal biology, and our brains clung to us as oat-executing, executioner sympathies and protections.

It was easy to catch the inquisition of examinees: The daily temptation of suicides. To imagine the misery of knowledge, imaginative promotion and our brains, devouring madness, and to imagine ourselves as some redeeming, Dalmatian, crusader! - My friend, how are we today? - We exist as a sticky, slimy, sticky syrup,

clinging to our bodies with sponge stubbornness, lost morality hangs from our shoulders like an old law: There is no responsible, forward-looking role model, a personality for whom you would give up your life as a pawn - and if you speak responsibly and still have humanity, you dare to persevere, persevere, The strings are on you. And almost every nerve has exploded: they are not threatening - this is not their style! Only

they **** and oblige. Are you a no-man's eye? She's in a dogfight! ” “And yet our intact and rotating fortune lies at the waist of coffins in one fell swoop. How long can the washing pace of your washing machine heart, the pigeon sermons of modern tyrants, endure the murderous pace tired of working twelve hours?

And is there still an honest and uncompromising deceiver with immortal conviction? - Here too, an “omniscient” Jani scientific janissary to the news - they all roar one-wheeled truths in people’s ears, - they think they like it in the images of conscious saviors because they weren’t sluggish and made Spanish wax a commodity. It is in my interest to greedy for power here with greed: And with murderous insatiability he loosely shatters all future refuge. This is how our enemy became our most direct friend and neighbor -

and our destiny to serve the Adonis Monkey Choirs! Or in the depths of our souls, free moral will can still show new paths, and our ******* is rocked only in the lap of our love: for new prophetic words, immersed in the pleasures of sure redemption. And I don't care what the bigger smart people say.

Half of My Friend! If you are asked a good few years later: After sixty or enough twenty years, what did you do to Tet? Or did you act on your desk? What do you say? You can't say: I worked, I worked, I tickled my family twelve a day, the only piece of my universe. "I'm complaining, but I'm not even more pessimistic." I know! What I could do today I easily missed the next day!
Should we forget? You may be right: To leave the former, proud shores of our memories with a sublime head like a swift Léthe stream — and as an eraser I would erase, clear my head of negative, inappropriate, enough things. So perhaps I could still be greeted by my undisturbed peace, my joyful serenity - I could not lack a forbidden seal-

as me, self-confidence is not the remaining spark-dare. - You see: Thirty years of exiled loneliness, soul-voluntary emigration, tutyimutyis mafla, molasses-squeezed whole; trampled to the ground! I couldn’t find my long-coveted, discoverable happiness! "Yet, foolishly and foolishly, I dared to believe,

that there might be something else from yew-flower-like acquaintances, running flirtation-glances: Perhaps it would have been better to grind in a barren wire-free animal without pains, tribulations without barbed-wire bushes? "It would have been better forever, to sleep a single dream in the creation flower of my only true mother, than to

humorous genie, chubby ghost? Then I wouldn’t sound like he’s constantly looking wolfish at the end, he’d push me to a ban list if he knew for sure:

 ,, I'm not recovering enough! Not a brave, fellow guy! ” - when taken out of the heat of host parents' homes, - merely vulnerable, smiling with tears of blood, a tried-and-true clown

For a long time, in a sure, deceptive consciousness, I too believed: Man is a central link in the courtyard of pearls, and his irreconcilable Robinson's instinct drives and drives him into uninhabited realms of ever-new adventures to guide his conscious and evolving intellect to his desired, achievable goals,

whose shores of Atlantis are lined with immortal familiar footprints. - In the age of long-standing eras, a “happy time of peace”, when a person could still have a secure retirement job and did not have to lie down and lie down every day; to hide the coming of executive executioners specializing in eviction, judges of dirt money.

With brain explosions in science, too, new nuclei proliferated and germinated every day, and if you could be a flame instead of an easily forgotten beautiful butterfly, even a bird could easily absorb your happiness - but did you even guess and know how long you could stretch? How long do you get there? "Because your existence, like your tomorrow, is Uncertain!" And the dragged everyday life pierces to the bone, penetrating to the barrier of blood vessels: Overheads and bills are waiting for you as commissioned assassins, they threaten you. - Do you still give up the happiness that can be achieved in return for ensuring your intentional security,

for you were a cautious coward and an alamus: You gave up and did not seek? Like you're a lost fly: You buzz aimlessly, your fleshy wings soaked with buzzing Kematok until finally the scorched resin smell of fly paper and the omnipotent human hand spread it out. Yet to rebel someday: Don't just tolerate that you can't be an equal party, just an emigrant, and resting in foreign conditions, - fidgeting

connection - and you have not been here for a long time Here is just silent, silent despair - Yet every day, as long as your body allows you to greet the first explosive rays, hold your head with your waist outstretched, your luminous brain-torch: Don't despair dust off many times!

Stubbornly, even among unbelievers. As a stubborn Sisyphus, do not stop, and in your selfish wisdom, do not forget it; if your career breaks at your waist, shouting heat-frog behind your back, your new firefly belief

It could have been, but it couldn't have been! Looking up at him, wolf-eyed with sincerity, I would have found someone with whom I could live the thousand, small, admiration of Being forever and immortally in the Infinite. "The idea of ​​soldering two hearts together could, I should, think at least a little: The slow, gradual transcendence and togetherness filled with the trembling cooperation of the Universe - this is the unspeakable redemption between earthly hell claws!"

Alas! “Today I had to learn from the bursts of my fault: It was a fault for every tear-eyed soul-opener. The complete and perfect bleeding of my vulnerability, the deliberate morality of every tiny concession, the trite diplomacy. Everything is perceptible only with a breath Kiss above the mouth, when in the atrium of our soul Cupid's greedy and insatiable arrow rained down!

All your remaining words - if you had any at all: wounded with Nessus poison, stamped like cursed Cain. And in the lap of the harmonies that can be filled, I did not dare to realize early among the iron shackles of my disillusionment, your glowing, redeemable angelic image is only flickering in my heart, still shining. And that you've been hugging your knight for a long time. And with your greedy arms like an overgrown amber tendril, he wraps his strangled-breathing neck around him, biting

his twilight arched lips, but no more: I can no longer be your faithful statistician, nor your slipper-like accomplice — only a diligent witness of the immortality of letters: the secret Golgotha ​​walk of our self-excellence. He's just coming, with murderous temper, it's about to happen. It could have been good, but lips, lips

the purple snakes running briskly in its purple cavity were dancing - and I couldn't drink your heartbeats melting from the box of your glowing heart either! With me: Roaring, furious with the despair of suicides to death, the Heart would hold you accountable for your taboo sins:

Why did this have to be done this way, and where did the forgivable mercy hide? Where did you stay? - When I bow my head like a convict, I go to the mountains of testifying dignity: They fall apart into pieces: Flesh, blood, bone, blood, cell molecules and your conscience once again, for the last time as a plea-complaint and I ask

It’s not that you’re doing your part with the immeasurable heart-stabbing, pregnant weight that, by traversing the placental depths of seaweeds from ancient shells, dissolving in your mother’s heart-squeezing cramps, and embracing: Ensuring your mortal vulnerability with this. - The rotating fortune-frying pan of your scales is ready, and you can't bend it, twitch it, and rotate it to balance, because it swings like a stubborn Get up Jancsi!

It’s not that he’s only half-hearted or selfish-greedy in your love, while the half-orphaned, pink-ruddy who cries on the other cry insists on multiplying the eternities of his insomnia, shattering the intimate turbulences of desire, desire and belief that everything is well done, even with a decent upbringing, you can even be a responsible person under the cosmos.

The only, baby-deliberately deliberately pampered Eden fruit of our love - it's not that in your tiny, iris-life you have to gradually learn the cowardly laws of existence, scour the pledge of your survival as a masterpiece, the smuggler and thief wait for you - but thief the dawn of disappointing dawns for your sweet parents, their promising survival with little hope,

which will be able to overshadow all the map fabrics of your childhood soaked in inhibitions, that you can only be a full-fledged child until school age, because the other pathetic and petty battles of life are only where everyone can go from hyenas Disappointed in your Hopelessness You fall alone as a suicide left alone

begging for help, pleading if he could still be wide here on this earth, who would color the unbearable Being as the rainbow of sacrifice and could be wholeheartedly someone who would not trample and exterminate - but would open it with a rich soul hanging

Unconsciously, he is unspeakable, and only in the dark tunnel consciousness did you keep the Desire as the compulsion to tear away the chains of existence once and for all, to the compulsive serpent chases, that the nets in your heart do not carry more oxygen than the clogged sponge holes. The budding intoxication of the competing, no-man's will,

in which your immortal and eternal soul seemed to be strained to receive the arrow shower of the filled Universe and pay tribute with the attacks of bombing kisses! "They didn't defeat you so irresponsibly, lightly - with gullible alamus because you could never escape, never hide: You were much more disappointed in yourself, and in the end you all turned to yourself."

the beauty of your dawn with a bloodthirsty seal — though it still greets you every day — but your sweetheart could have jumped into the river Léthe, for he had never voluntarily earned it! A ruptured and conscious Loneliness is no longer an enemy, but a faithful companion, a trusted friend: The compulsion of secret duels over my head with a pallos of swords of Damocles forever strikes.

The thorn fingers of loneliness as stretched, torturous rose hips preach their own probationary Calvary. - At night, the panther-gentle soot falls on me again, - the only possible refuge is left only after the UVB rays of the Sun, which, like boiled *****, have been scorched and burned several times by grate-grate: Who knows the possible answers?

- where did the self-consuming Time fall in this expanding universe? "I have lacked your compensation, and my grief descended on my heart like the empty Indifference!" - you can already guess yourself down there, beneath the two twin hills of your fatally throbbing Olympian, the eternal, immortal myth of birth, its incarnation in your placental sea: a squeaky, silent watch, listening with vigilance!

Your Eurydice has left the circles of your everyday life as hell because the flirting of his heart rumbled to someone else instead of his madly enthusiastic, complimenting singer

I incarnate into my unconscious parts: In a destroyed body, the spirit and the soul are resting undisturbed, and shining freely - but whoever loses one part of the conscious and the unconsciously conscious of Being, loses all - and with the flaming breath of the heart and soul immortal - since your lover speaks the true pearls of his mourning on the earth - while his swoon-like Orpheus wanders through the catacombs of the underworld: Never again have his last first encounter!

Will an independent being, like the superior Self, consciously survive if memory is not trapped in Alzheimer's? Only the One, only the Chosen One, born as a handcuffed, love-hungry convict, was born forever trying like Prometheus - could he be happy, perfectly agreed?

Otherwise, if our memory becomes a holey sack, it will become a soulless consciousness - you are nothing and you will be! You are aware of the sense of responsibility, only in the minute, eternal-One, and indestructible, in eternal collision, in the orderly transformation of oneself

is also a solid One. Moments of apathy, little bagels disappear; details, little details


- The rushed Time, like a sponge, as a hermetically sealed state, is timeless floating above me! And what I hardly need is the reason to sift and select! - The One, the One, the Eternal, and the True are hiding somewhere in the depths of the breathing things, lying down and lying low in the sun: You yourself lie down and swim in a non-touching consciousness: Sensual - you know - word and deeds the same way can spur!

The magic bombards this extraterrestrial miracle, shocking its throbbing nerves, and tune the Universe with seduction - The profound depths of Being are shivering unconsciously in every sigh of conscious volcanoes. And immersed in one another, dipped - but not as convicted, orphaned spirits, but as two innocents

gently sinners, relying on conscious forgiveness, while listening to each other's throbbing heartbeats - more and more!

If the fear of despair, the depth of self-pity infection, thrusts you into a vortex - there you will ask for silence and have you ever been silent? Your poisoned pain will increase your selfishness to the selfishness of the disappointed sinking of your Prometheus ruins in your daytime, if you pay close attention to dog loyalty, it may disappear forever - and here again, your grimy, clogged cry for your nonexistent coffin!

The only personality that you can be yourself, and all you know, is sheer treasure treasure treasure dumps every day instead of just profitable kitchen pigs instead of you - like an inexhaustible like an impregnable Mont Blanc - a prison of your own self: to admit,

this is how you protect your seeming independence - even though you depend on the best-called wolves for your neighbors, the swap-cheap János camp, the Ness-nothing-grab-well-loggers who stand on a traffic light with a bumblebee hesitation, while the apocalypse in the chaos behind them drowns in traffic!

Your self-conscience, illuminated by solid halo light, can only speak if you surrender yourself, part of your petty, lowly sins! - You can do no more than the truth than is absolutely necessary - you are not judged by the heartbeat of the heated desire, and in vain you desire it, and you inevitably sigh ever more complete harmony, without dubious ringing dissonance, cheap and small-style sidebars watching, secretly researching, and flirting shyly if need be

- the extortion will devour the Existence! If you push your self-pity into the abyss of all-consuming suicide, you will be thrown into a vortex, giving you a single answer as an excuse for yourself: Listen very well! "Be undetected, yet consciously present, for you are never alone!"

A frightened orphan plundering like a greedy treasure-robbing Luxor royal tombs, like you - already a gentle hoarfrost pinched its head into depth and height as you consciously look into it. What spirit, what value, interest compels us every day as experimenting Sisyphus to compete: promotion, firing, the universal and general drivers of our struggle, which is our existence

is it in the micro-cogwheels to consume our bodies, strip our bones lean, and turn the soul into scarecrows of bone and skin, which sends its noble messages to us with the gift of immortality and eternal survival ?! "What can the Infinite, Eternal Damaged Silence teach you?"

Peace has long been sought and then found common wavelengths? And why not repel, tolerate, and cut with one-hearted silence like the striking lightning strikes of the Rock's natural laws, the crackling whiplash? - Just a few happier, and perhaps more independent, decades before finally being a glass foam, a pearl greenhouse

if the sea is mockery - and all their firm, uncertain decisions, and their meaningful countdown to the Unified Everything: Are we well-determined in the fog of unfamiliar situations, while the hourglass of our mortality turns again with every Prometheus birth,

sinking, or tossing the Heureka sparks of our individuality into Adam and Eve's costumes to shine freely, yet without happiness, with happier satisfaction? - Fascinated and tasted among the flowering genera of flowering flowers, honey-rich, nectar-rich nectar for Eternal life - And as a reward, even the eternal burden and Love-hungry, yet selfish and cowardly, for a falling man will be sentient, beating blood from flesh - Like once organized consciousness, it is a particle of cellular biology, and its molecule from the placental shelter, the bladder of bladder, the organic Unfinished and eternal

has become an immortal part! And why is it that by birth, as an organic gift, we have gained Death, yet still struggle daily with the Kharubdis Gap of Uncertain Tomorrow as Sifif ?!

The biological part of immortality swirls in the heart with the countdown of death. Its final countdown is crashing with unbridled, fast-train speeds - when we come to the surface from our cavernous placenta-deep captivity with our creaking orphans - eagerly demanding hunger and caring! Out of the captivating light of the Universe, it is a crying toad

from the resurrection of liberation, we would all like to cry out for the one-sacred moment, to demand a chain of rights: In our mother's babysitter's arm, we can breathe deeply into our consciousness with perfect harmony, and hold eternal and immortal faith

the indulgence and the blessed peace of the babysitter indulgence and the hugging swan kills! How clear and simple the formula is in our thirsty love-hunger: Let's stay in our Time-Laced Face: beyond the ravine: Unforgettable, eternal smile, eternal gleam in the nuts!

Fulfillment of the Celestial-Earth Universe, moving to heart-home! - The process of our existence: the lawful order of our eternal cycle - if we couldn't stop it. In our hearts, as a calculated, timed bomb, the virtue of immortality, and death-beaten death swirls, while our heartbeat, like a raised alarm clock, clicks and tickes.

drumming into bars! As a high-speed train even today, with its unstoppable stubbornness, the gall is our Perc: Our caring concern only to our legal age! - We Can't Get Rid of the Game of Souls of Shadows That Lead Our Souls, ******-Eyed Laughs: The crater gap of our absence is still piercing, expanding into a gaping, dark hole - if we can't have someone to cherish our dreams with cherished self-discipline!