You may not be crying for your forgotten pigeon hairs here; It began to scream, and for the nights, when you have almost gotten the nightmares of the nightmares, the dog could not remember it. Every decade, you still need to take all the lawyer of your life, the guillotine movement of the petty, envious, insidious gazes, which will get closer and closer to the promises of small-shaped retaliation.

Straits wounded the outlines of your childhood back, which, in a short time, was completely tired, but you couldn't say anything, and you didn't pay attention because you were a minor legally, humanly.

In your eternal child, the weathered, slightly stubborn face shows the harsh-trenches that you believe to be lost that you can no longer get back; nor in the form of gift or privileged gestures - your inner soul falls cannot even erase the traces of your conscious selfishness. - You book your losses in a nice line, your Talmi-ócska merits, with which you either intentionally bread, or trampled your remaining dignity.

The stigma mines faded in trembling, trembling inside are tense, shouting, or just begging: "Where do you stay for such a dear angel, who with your one glance you comfort the restless whimpering, orphaned worn-out kids I stayed?! Apocryphal secrets.

Celeb-smelling exibitionist **** is the romantic self-pity of sentimentalism and the glass pots of mosaic. The last adolescents cherish dandelion loves because - maybe - they have no mood for the world of superficial, muddy absolute adults!

In front of us is a messy, -to say, -in the ***** of a stoic, tuna indifference, perhaps a bit persecuted, human -wreeds, give each other; I still want to save their movable values. Not only the spiritual poor-but also the turrannos that want to be of power, suffer from unknown blindness, because well-suited false interests are cheap, lying, and even so, the average is the same.

There may have been nicer, more successful worlds all over themselves, and as light promises, anyone who is still very susceptible to it was well-placed. Initially, all wills and intentions are creative and evolving, and in the meantime, it becomes manipulated, which runs through hand and middle and is ready for a pseudo -illusion, in which, undoubtedly, it can even be clung to a couple of decades, but after an accelerated disappointment; What was the point of formulas for dreams of card castles?! - Because the consciousness is increasingly not taking its place in its possible van.

And while upstairs, the pigeons who are desiring to fall in the sky can raid and they can empty their waste material in their mourning, the simple average can hardly wipe not only the liquid snow-white snacks on his head, but also the petty bribery of capitalized life.

It would be good to steal the expandable time, as well as the secret of Eden, a little for ordinary people; Instead of an imaginary joy and apparent, acute happiness crushes, extend the tangible prosperity that you. Not only spiritus, but even the Sus, is losing weight too early.

Who else remembers the faithful, friendly handshake, which we used to give each other a gift of each other as the pledge of possible adult lives?! Next to our eyes, the raven-born, attractive little hind legs are trembling, while our thinning hair, which began to be bald, testifies to decades of turning reversal.

In the harbor of the sea bays, Lorelalay fairy shape, unfolds his long hair, on which the water drops are still trembling as the pearls of real beads, and his superstitious gaze still says, "Don't be afraid of anything! I will save from all the Galad -Komis troubles that this traitorous world will deliver to us!

This is how the exclusion of conscious loneliness was once; When we thought we were eternal childish, adolescent, that the so-called. Absolute adults can never speak anymore because it does not belong to them. And while the soft heads were overgrown, and some of their children were born, somewhere that little man had a far away, and on the jersey of the cooked weekdays, fearful, we can hear his child -mouthed intellect.

The deeply hidden silent man was unexpectedly knocked, and while he was hesitant, we were stuck on the chessboard of the capitalized life: that we should go where we should go or just happen to be happy and happy.

He was deeply concerned about this step -by -step, apocalyptic earth order. Invisible, infectious, circling atomic jets are pregnant fruits and vegetables. From the harons of the rotten furrows, even the gillys and worm-fenes have long been extinct or fled. They took their tent pain like some. Modern man, with modern digital drone tools and the needle-pointed destinations of target designs, still crafts his fellow human beings.

Spirally wrapped in snake -like maze -feared -no longer and may not be a solution; Others dictate not only the statutes of the game, but also -perhaps -in the earthly confusion, the mere existence of existence. In the gray prison of concrete frame, even the smell of formalin is stagnated and degraded into an increasingly unbearable nausea.

The robe of wounded souls is now increasingly ravens to tear, wrinkles, as if it were a bunnied Prometheus who could never be rid of underworld vulture, stolen the fire for the withered people. As an uninvited guests, Katyusa was wandering around, bombshell, while a crumbling machine is screaming into the melodies of the Ruttering Winds.

The replaced, former childhood dreams are now criminal on the appealing hanger of life to you. They still wanted to dream of a livelier future, but maybe hopeless; Pale cheese-moon would illuminate the messages of mystical flyers with Pisla tiger nails ...

A tiny, innocent lie is enough for someone to press that particular red button, and while life is so fragile as the grass that nature or human feet can be trampled at any time, we hang on to be tolerated, forced on the degree of chessboard, either straw or waxy, inanimate!

My dream-to-cover makes it void of the dawn; My coma ears are hit by a dull, no noise, the eternal noise of the big cities as an anthill. The lazy worldwide wind still shakes the spring -tamed mood, in which no one can feel the summer forgotten of the summer.

Relaxing, harmonious desires seemed to be intent, just like most shipwrecks; My soul and in my heart are secretly two double shadows, which may be increasingly difficult to decipher, especially for those who practice empathy tolerance not only with well-ringing words but also.

As a cataract, many manipulates the deceived blindness, as well as the harsh -smelling blindfold: anyone who has made a bargain -knowing about himself -is a human law over himself, that is, eternal, unbearable slave tax. - Often, my puffs carrying the wreath of distorted grimaces are more than compelled, because of strange bile, vomiting grimaces on it as thick-hearted layers.

The melody of a damp, dull indifference, like a whip, knocks into my heart: a condemned accusation is the redeeming love of the universe as a gift, as one of the possible antidote to the happy immortality in moments. Calculated chess game -feared -never escapes because he could leave eternal doubt, as well as self -denial of conscience.

As a wound, only the boredom of boredom, later in the sober, conscious doubt: how should it be different, forbidden, forbidden, or even lame-and-whining, to get out of the grinding treadmill of everyday life?

Kerouac tattooed skin shows secret signs, vision signs; The more striking, the better they are. Peace loan bread rarely returns, just like the money ends at nine at the cashians will deliberately take a worthless little money. Still, in the suits that began to be disgusted, the big Cula-Weais were still able to stay, and they dared to stay, because everyone was a crook, even the son of the housekeeper and the washer. The world would not only pull the curtains of a kitschy, ordered fog that repulsive, but even packs a few tons of shovels to make the simple minority even harder.

Lightweight, small -style women seem to have a little stronger makeup and needle heels, who, although they promised their parents, would hopefully get home safely in half before midnight, and the end result is only nine months later. Flower petals tear the accelerating time. "Is Ágnes like the Melós Kisitós Géza, who is torn off from the branch?

Nowadays, even more and more people would want to be ironed once, and for all, they have become a shipwreck, and their mortal everyday life and pigeon fibers are combed from the bald-dandruff head of decades. With the rags of our memories, it would be good to look for and find the grip points that are secured again; Dogs crouching in alley smells are homeless, while semi -full demonstrations flow, like the blood of twilight red wine with tablet smells.

Perhaps only the Savior Death Consciousness can bring about the final amnesty that can be a redeeming death of death!

They put the man out of the big whole, that you. Try to cultivate the time of mortality. Inside, in the manipulated one-depth of the soul, the happy-sad dust of the past decades fluttering as sand. Because eternal moments would be good to adhere to the storage of cell-molecules, like Velcro fasteners or magnets. After forty, big harvesting begins; Thus, who tries to collect the fruit that was deserved in the way of serving crickets, or even enthusiastic ants, even what they thought could be sacrificed.

Coincidents were hanging on robbery chains, as they could have been able to stand the day -to -day pressure differences, which would have been good to compensate. The signs of life are already reflected in vain by the witnessed footprints, and the earthworms are furthermen, who are aware of the more true significance of the floods.

A thin clearing gap between our crowded feelings is increasingly rarely attacking; Secret, guessing Vates movements only rarely sing. Wherever you go, you are surrounded by obstacles, bad, unobtrusive fences everywhere in your life, which you may not be able to get rid of.

The unprotected victims dance at the edges of the gaps; Thick anniversary rings hiding in the year -rounds still hide the values ​​of our mortality. Time now, with increasingly uncertain charge, click-and-tongue in the century! - Anti -falsifying dazzles play with the diodes of the inner vocals that can be used, which we may even forget to show ourselves.

The hope of returning is still under the surface, but there is no one who finds it, holds it, comfort it with sincere, fearful will, and wants to take care!

I try to question myself from a crook, well depths of self-marking, as with the only real crime of crime; that it exists and still wants to prosper. I want to cry for help, just like yelling at my chronic little age, squeezing: _ , dear! Adopt! Be my cherished mother, when all and everyone has been abandoned! "_ - I will soon be disappointed and realize that it is a literal nonsense for anyone to get on the iron gates that are not opened anywhere.

Like the law of the law, like something always moistened, the stigma-stigma-stigma's past, the stifling, strangling fragments of my past; ****** capillaries blink in my drumming heart, as if it were a malfunctioning, hard-to-repair pump that only pumps the life-giving oxygen elixir if they are in despair for a few minutes.

There is nothing cozy among the greasy hungry flowers in Paris derivatives and as much as friendly as possible; Freaky knives to see a cheap, small -style flea circus in the news, the miserable theatrical formula of everyday abandones, and the era of leeches that are dried on the bones.

Why do you have to see that the lovers were also replaced by pink ******* and expensive console angels when it was once a liberation from tons of Sififus weights that one person could look into the other's truthful eyes?!

Can we trust our friends, family members -if they were at all at all?! Don't you want to harvest with this deliberate primacy, the enforced, manipulation situations, petty situations?! "It doesn't matter if the simple average anthil is living or dying!"

In the depths of closure almost immediately, why do we feel that life and death are still impatient on the threshold of existence?! From here, every time of every spiral circle closes early until you are confused about it. We can't even start with a breath of breath, as our daily cumbersome days have become more and more counts, so they can be measured and measured when, where, how much they made a mistake for us.

The roses in the depths of the heart were called twilight, which, if they thought, was deliberately blocked in the coronary tunnels, the molecular networks of free oxygen flows in the coronary arteries. At a bus stop, it is almost palpable not only a manipulative tool for massed psychosis, but a silent infarction that grows as an atomic bomb, calling for almost always late attacks as a diving bell.

The mucus bile in the stomach, as if it were to give birth to kaleidoscopy over and over again, and on mirror pieces, infants should learn to understand once and for all: their lives will never be a romantic fairy tale or a nice foam cake. The wreaths of heart -shaped gingerbread may not have been really crumbs - they were digested by uncertainty that medication or durable food should be purchased.

In the brain -era of nonsensical phrases, one would become more and more desired towards an unparalleled life, as a sweet -sad, childish nostalgia, because he feels and knows -perhaps -he can hardly be a second sans. Now, we are struck as a fish in intentional subordinates as a fish for another forced time!

It would have been good to leave my discomfort - for at least a few hours - to leave, to leak to leak between my circulation; Even with a low watercourse, the pendulum-like wire, which has been slipped on the cooler door, barely took off the brown chocolate pearls of durable, massive faeces. It would be a good thing to quit the self-time at least some days, of which there is quite a few available, and then less and less.

My seemingly confident self-confidence is cut off by an unpleasant or just unfriendly calling, usually by the wild baundry motorists, or the company of the bohemian teenagers who are well-sufficient in public transport asks for a larger room for maneuver, He tells you that you. There is such a livable world out there, etc ... Well, that's a lot of good for me!

Incredible secrecy or intentional inaccessibility, even in twenty -four hours of the day, is no longer ordinary or conventional. - Greasures and worms can feel just as cozy, comfortable in a situation that was forced, as well as the average, when they have fallen asleep, that they are consciously afraid to ask the nature of unknown things because those outside - may be stupid.

Purgery wounds are caused by disintegrated friendly bonds because they are retrieved, depriving them of the ability to heal; There will be perfect unexpectedness to the bagatell nothing if they are not careful and let them lose what could not be created!

The world is now cosmos, Donga's legs are still moving towards the cosmos; Stone, whimsical, silent celestial star in the nests of stratospheres. Other times, in a negative way, he would almost flatten himself back to another galaxy if possible. At the edge of existence itself, there may have been some confusion between the two endpoints of the silence that no one has understood nowadays.

It may be better to flee from sun-busters that look helpless, because they can't even listen to more experienced, wise words that the scientist gave birth to their brains; On wandering serpentine trails, they march over our heads in the way of curling snakes, which have been disgusted, and for decades. The loosened staples of the souls were as if they had long been rusted, as the lubricant oil was also being cut by someone.

The Dariido People are now increasingly stinking from the arrogance of the Hübris-nourished manner, and they smell so daddy in their souls, although they are stretching out of the outside in a branded suit and showing the imagined standard; Tiny shiny rings shine in the heroic lovers, while the night falls back into the darkness of the night.

Uncertain, the world still feels the selfish-mown truth, which he can never prove enough, and his victims have become unprotected by dedicated to the hopes of survival to the hope of a better and noble period. Perhaps the earthly fruits of the universe will also be trapped halfway?!

Beautiful, negative words are now gone, like the chronic blind, and the stars ever brightening are stumbling upon themselves; The Creator Silence -Fearful -can no longer cover it completely, but it will not allow it to be safely hugged after a more difficult weekday. It is as if spiders are weaving the uncertain tomorrow, man often, even a small child, will be in everlasting games, because he cannot trust anyone anymore, perhaps not even keeping his closest acquaintances close to themselves.

The relationships, like manipulation, unveiled acts can still be occupied by an abnormal body, as well as the thinning body built from the cells of instincts. A vain lover is also a wounded heart that makes a loyalty vow, and for some reason, ten years away, a single question, when a final break is made: "Why did we fall in love with each other?! Do you remember yet?! Look into my tearful eyes and say you loved it at a particular universe! "

In the willful sea of ​​determination, emotional storms were raging in groups and could only be very, very difficult to dampen; Thousands of trials can no longer be endured, tolerated by the human soul, which eagerly thirst for empathy-tolerance just like the absolute love.

The clamping compulsion now voluntarily puts a soul into the body, a mind into thoughts; Perhaps once, the human turn, the restless stress-voltage, which occasionally has mood breaks, will be finally overwhelmed, and as nature changes day by day, minute by minute. Many times it would be so welcoming for a heart -born, redeeming smile to give up a reconciled human interior, which is united with itself.

I couldn't believe that anything could exist after the great nirvana-nothing; When, as tiny nuclei, more than millions of cells molecules, the heart-wounded heart is decomposed on a millions of molecules, the shipwreck souls screams the pain of the last prayer, before they finally get out of captivity. The uncertain life serpentine trails are still invisible beyond the life they have begun, but still felt and present.

Without gap continuing, the constantly self -proclaimed human thought builds a stairs; How would a human infinite story have continued if we dare to step down a minute-to-minute fragment of the impossible venture that is ridiculous to some of them, or the eternal love, which is supposedly only once in our lives, as it is an arranged series of other repetitions.

Now, everyone can only push the memorial box, but doubt that it will open it, because it is so many times not only free will but also the law of humility; For common pleasures, he could no longer remain free tickets or quotas. Tomorrow's deliberately blind hope would be unexpected to demand wandered Jusses, and still do not understand who endless dances are going around?!

On the path of our destiny, we stumble upon it, as time as time as time as time as old as agitated and soulful. The rebellion of the masses can never be thank you enough, a pathetic merit for the otherwise complicated history complex.

Nowadays, those who are tough in tough destinies, as if they had become slippers, who had to kiss their legs and *****, because - secretly - they know more and more; Praise, petty premiums, pathetic laurels have never been given for free or just salary.

Fair work - if at all - has long been gone. Only fake-lieing, tinsel, small-style, small-style little practices, which usually took the big average to easily scam everyone on the backboard.

The prophets of truth and wisdom were retreated into their mole-like caves because they found that the mass-massed people of the modern age had intentionally turned their backs not only to the archangels' crooks, but also to the Jericho trombones, as well as manipulated Cassandra.

The dog's wounded palms trained in a tablet, the dog is not even curious; In the drunkenness of their daily drunkenness, they are crushed by their daily work abundance Stathanov's chips. The stolen life scatters fragments of rocks because it would be in vain to reuse the majority raw material. Human wildlife is forced to knees by the higher idiot leadership.

Until the unexpected day of their death, they carry their marshmallows with forced, indifferent resignation, and while the PlayStation, gadget-manic new donkey generation turns the back of the good man, just like the universal values ​​of books, culture, the Atlantic-flowered sighs of romance.

On the rockets of Katyusa wings, the nuclear, uncertain future trembling, rumbling over our heads; And while cells, billions of molecules, are in a moment into nucleus, perhaps the human feelings that are thought to be eternal, loyal, are breaking, increasing themselves to more than millions of particles in the confused presence!

From scattered letters, you can rarely put together who you were used to, because radical digitalization is now like some malicious, pathetic illness in your daily lives. Because you can only observe the change in yourself, which, according to truth, does not change, at most, only instincts can also change or change.

It is as if even your DNA would perceive the one you can trust, because you don't always be a scream or a heccle - but you will definitely follow your childish rules of play and who, when you lightly, is nonsense.

From your squeezed mouth biting words, no one has yet asked how and how you feel so many desperate, hopeless decades from a distance. The deliberately beautified memories of you, so that the uncertain present can look a little more livable for at least sixty a few years, and then it doesn't matter to you. Because camouflaged sincerity's personalized forced jacket is nowadays finally getting out, as if wearing severe scrapers are almost impossible.

Monkeys obedient to preaching words in brainwashed brains march not only on the border of monkey countries; You can compare you to a sorrow, no one, no one has spoken to anyone, as if it were an inner defensive mechanism that you can only understand and accept.

In the way of sleeping, even a pathetic, laughing ghost, you are still limping, hard-to-life, and you would love to have your dear, you can shake hands because you have to love it, and it is still easy!

You are in a hurry trying to say goodbye to a long -forgotten honey -glazed, calling voice that promised the sacred promises of immortal romance; You would knock on closed doors, gates, closed windows, but you are disappointed with yourself and tell yourself: Come on! Why?! Next to a advertising wall, like most of the dogs, you stop and unexpectedly surprise the bitter, penetrating smell of the urethral ammonia. Maybe you weren't better, and it's different than anyone, just an average guy who is still out.

You are still a little stuck, because it seems as if you don't want to go to work that day, where your slave bosses are regularly yelling at her pant, baldness, pathetic head, and you need to break the stolen nuts that can decorate your table.

End length is not forever over your head The failure, steel-white neon light, but you would rather vote for the well-proven sixty watt pears, and you are lucky to have another small style, mole diopter. Your superficial relationships have become an infinite water -eighth, because, according to many, you have deliberately neglected them.

Just when you feel that you would burn out and give up more, since a sober meaning and foreseeable logic have long been gone, a romantic voice is dead in your mobile: "Hi beautiful boy! I miss you darling! " -and you -like most -, love -hungry, sober pathetic idiot, with a disgusting, disgraced consciousness, listen to the etheric, pearl -chattering sound of the other everyday success,

Many have already asked you what you have done for yourself to be a little more livable, tolerable, and while you list what you have done, what you have done to the noble, right, good, They get a idiot for a day 24 hours a day!

Now, with an enthusiastic grin, they are daring the seven -ended stars of deterioration; ugly is now a desperate multitude, gnawing on the vain with Nirvana. It would have been better if the little minute-to-man blue people would try to experience the hearts of the heart once and to independent of the hypocritical exhibitionism and the infecto they had intentionally fell into.

The degree of shocks - in many cases - is tamed into rock -solid features. The Loser Ostob was also placed in the crossfire of existence, who even believed that he could get benefits and premiums in exchange for the work of overtime, and to be taken over and over again on the holidays. The denial of closed eyes could be more obvious, no more conflicting.

The massive spread of mouth odors, which causes the first-to-road flirts, eyelashes, and the light, airy romance of kisses; Often with modesty, it is often the case that they are shaken, because the self -sealing of himself is the discrete charm of reality that chains and tempts at the same time.

They are now trying to take care of the puzzal all -paved scenes; The more appealing a fuss in a circus, no end-to-end rooster, no more chic and more ostentatious. The cosmic laws of the essential order - fearful - are no longer a way, whether wise or wisely deaf ears.

The darling destruction, the lasting rotting can be delayed for decades while a digital nomad-or if you like-is growing again, non-comprehensive degenerate donkey generation!

It would be good to face at least a few times on the bumpy, predictable paths of life, with a pale, two-color sunlight, when a hearty, plate-namous love quarrel, when we thought it could now be built on all the sand, collapsed card castles, and not to be hidden.

Broken gestures, small-style gestures can remain with man only if he is frightened of his own greedy but sincere emotions, which are integrated into their cell molecules and instincts, so they have become part of it. The footprints of the torn memories are still preserved by the snow -white sandy beach, which is nursed by the bleeding sunset; Who knows if a life-creating relay run can start again?!

Nowadays, halfway between the darling, donkey tissues, stingy, silent stones, maybe one or two if you can still keep the silent apocryphal dialogues. They ran away -who knows where -to the infinity because the protective angels of the paradise found were being expelled and ashamed of shattered their Ikarus wings.

You should never fall irresponsible into the spear of sighs; Romantic calls should be entrusted to the cherished, benevolent captivity of the Procrostic Beds. In a grotesque-stool world, it would be good to know that even the spiral devil circles are not multiplying and breeding in the split atoms-but they tend to break cherished flower petals.

They do not now be parked by anyone with their free-to-leaves; They only raise muddy muddy nests from the day, just nonsense, nonsense promises!

Like a head onion that is just peeled as layers if they want to get to the more real essence at all - so we are more inner, with our more in -aimed at all, our eyes; Our goodwill and disguised plans - barely noticed - as if we had already been deliberately observed. In the rolled, symmetrical noises, the unreasonable eternity of the soul, the sincerity that is often attached to each other's heads, is almost hardly heard or clear.

The secret Violin key seemed to have broken the gates and launches to rust, which opened to the gates; Why is it that nowadays souls are bassed as inherited Asians, and the West seems to be farther away?! - and who the omniscient noisy has passed with a panic, and now they have been silent for a long time.

Because the contradictions are now facing, instead of trying the negotiable compromise of the compromises, the brainwashed skulls, which have been ****** in by the elamic, lasting brutal show of tabloid media; "Whoever digs to someone else" - and while the Mantra reporter and small -style influenced, even the laughing, laughing accomplices are more likely to change questions to make their doubtful answers reliable!

And because this is how this russian is moving, a tricky one world seems to be completely natural, that one will sooner or later be compromised and sells itself in a bribe!

There is no will or hesitant emotion anymore; It would be good if it would have been possible to plant empathy-tolerance in the forests of the tiny lights, along with the usual hunger for love. The distance is as if it would be increasingly obvious between far-flung distances, not just between a man-man. The soul of the soul is also ruined uncomfortable; Memories that fit into Atlantis also sink in it if they are not careful.

Crocodile tears would look for a way out under the fountains of the forehead, if possible; Inside, the slightly small, pathetic arm of the retreating, measured sighs ask for his admission somewhere, which they only know that the dirt of everyday life should be washed and expelled. The senses are dampened by the cell element, the inner secret suspicion, which also prevents one from trusting the other at least once in a while.

Outside, his dance is still dance by the pathetic, nonsensical talmic cheer; The illusion of possible opportunities, which is unfortunately not at all reserved for the average. The eager, eager, pursuit of success is tilted with its selfish limbs. As a fibrous wooden beam, they lined up in life with the unworthy, ship-wrapped sins that no one can get rid of.

From the field of idyllic dreams, his still victims are retreated by the formula of realistic reality; They are searching or looking for gaps where they may still be able to swim with this confused whole, because one can hardly do anything else in the loops of time, like a *****, soaked metaphor!

If our lives could, in half of our lives, could be put together with the original nature of real, sincere friendships, and how many came and come up with honey-glazed promises, cheap, small-style, pathetic lies, perhaps as a deciphering. They stepped through a hesitant, uncertain will in an unfinished, much-to-tender life like the last legion of the Sahara sand dunes.

The love of love, who still has something flirted with the universe, thinks of the nights, and when he wakes up hibernation, he often does not really understand whether he could only make a mistake alone, or the one who betrayed him?!

It is incredible that this forty years have gone, and as they say, as something of a brain, ancient mantra text is that you. You have been a hysterical, dreaded, peeled puppy in your world life, you did not intentionally want to change and become absolutely, rigid than those who are more likely to have a comatose in the world.

It would be a good idea to collect the deliberately death of the happy-sadness that was deliberately died, which were still loyal by the lovely ash, princesses. Listening to the shadow of snow-white sandy, palm wooden beaches not only the murmurs of the seas but also the music of horns, what else can the uncertain doom in which we were born to live?!

It is always a bit more difficult to wake up to a real realistic reality, because it is already a bit of a nausea, nausea speeches, and - feared - if not taking care of it in itself!

Now I know, and I feel more and more that I need to go alone; Inside, it trembles, like a tamed poplar leaf of the human soul, the voice of the happy-sad-sad spleen is trying to imitate the rogue ruts. He stumbles hesitantly, and then I have a hard time with the eternal child who knows not to change, because he would lose all his remaining magic power he once drew from tales and stories in the evening bedtime ...

I have to go alone; Unfortunately, I acknowledged and understood that my dear could not be accompanied by a worthy accompanying partner, shaking, shy, shy hands can only be surrounded by a haunting-oat, just like Dante's spirit. The chubby clown-arccom grimacing distorted laughter is more bitter crocodile-moving crying rather than real, unquestionable joy and happiness.

I go alone now, as there could hardly be a couple of sincere friends, a couple of nice words, which I definitely believe, and hours, minutes, months, decades are super-spokeless first and then deliberately empty; Many times I would like to believe that after forty, I will not be alone if the ghost is singing for minutes, and singing the severe pendulum clock ...

Now I go alone, whether the loneliness wanderer, or even a stubborn and an atonomic news story, who didn't intentionally want to listen to him because they thought only a half-peculiar, sucker, childish idiot. And while they thought that my loser could only be trendy, there were barely a few who saw the orphaned, trembling child in the depths of my soul!

The millions of life, a manipulated life, and a finger pushes the countless small -style, bustling worms that are unnoticed in people's cells; Doubtful, nobody's house bargainers - perhaps they rarely notice themselves - open unnoticed, and even the dense, rich amber indaire surround the bribed life.

Because now many are in a way that they would rather intentionally leave themselves to be disinfected; They adhere to layers and layers of alamus, while scars, seams, and old stigma halves lied to healing. Now everyone has been reset, at most, just not those who are puffing on the top of a certain peak of a certain untouchable social pyramid, cruising on snow -white yachts.

Behind seeing eyelids can open gaps that only listen to the deceased heart alone: ​​are you with me or just against me?! - Crystal clear emotions seeking sincerity, openness, tolerance are silently and fast - if they were at all - and anyone who could have been on the open street who had finally collapsed at the corner of a bus stop ...

A lounged Fecalia roller with his legs with his feet, a derailed man-life, and he can't understand how, and how he could now get a bread in the pig mud and connect some everyday snacks. - There are always cracks between the crease of silence if the real essence is not recognized early!

Souls can no longer be released if a series of gratitude is dreaded, ready for commercial pleasures. Because they were deliberately escaped, like the derailed lives of the Ordas wildlife, the flower-flowers, and the desires of dreams, which may never have been fulfilled and will no longer be fulfilled.

It is superfluous to have all the vain monkey services that have recently become fashion-fashioned to meet and casting at the same time; Where did you come from? What do you want? How much cost -effective settlement did you think once you bought a tertiary degree in the flea market?! - Instead of answers, just look at how they kick the simple, tolerated average with a pair of feet where only selected social creams can go.

And just as the good old painter Rembrandt, who, at least, sold his own body, to get a smaller ancillary, and Durenmatt wouldn't be careful at the visit of the old lady. -A large soul detector cannot be enough or Wi-Fi if you want to say, why did individual people become wicked, less than a permissible average?! If they were to show the memories of their childhood, which seemed petty, insignificant, how they became vulnerable, humiliated to dust, perhaps they could learn more because of patient understanding.

On the coast of the extinct, uninhabited ditches of public workers, they are mate, tummy tubs, which can be called aesthetically pleasing, aesthetically pleasing; While one finds a used, broken-tooth comb, which may be good for his teenage daughter, the other haircut that has been chewed by his beautiful wife for decades. This is how they sweep up and then finally collect their sins!

Tan would have been better -you say -to stop the other in Pőr, Adam's costume, to be sure to manage the personality of the deliberately hidden lyrical self; The more real, honest seed hidden in the walnut. Because the world, which has been stunned in the cobwebs, is already completely excluded.

Inversely staring in the mirror, the face looks like a wolf multiplied by himself, until one sooner or later it only gets caught and voluntarily cuts a distortion, like a teenage eternal child with all the hair; There are two types of disgust - often - necessary because it always matches. In the depths of the inner soul, the covenant of direct, friendly words, the appearances of secret compromises, the miracle of Pisla perhaps only excite only one.

Inexorable silence is tense when the cross-section of two naive-lovable dialogues unfolds at all, and not just the consolation of the hugging arms, the glance of angelic superstitious eyes would be important, but the thought of stripped, crystallization. that we can count on someone.

Often, it is better to have been done instead of unnecessary, tricky words and spoke, and the secret apocryphal shirring that they thought was that only the selected, privileged, perhaps, may have the same average. And while the soul tends to disappear, fade away by the intermediate ventilation gaps, it is time for a real and sincere emotion to be lost if it is not estimated and is not taken care of enough.

In addition to the delight, the head of the Komis tyrant immediately struck the rampant selfishness, which was handcuffed with the desire for possession of possession; While some have a fulfilled miracle for others, the unexpectedly fulfilled nine months of eternal watershed is an unworthy ending of a happy, forgettable idyllic era, as men are wild, beasts, and still selfish, because they can imagine the little men on the way to Placentan's tunnels , but the demanding, greedy desire for possession that deprives most of Mom from loving a man as her own child.

, Sweetheart! I don't want a kid! Another colloon on my thick neck! "Said the insulted vanity from the mouth of the Test Testeron Tithan, then walked smoothly from the life of his beloved lover in a smoke. He didn't even look at the hospital's obstetric ward to ask how and how they were more expensive With all the treasures of the world.

The whispering baby whispered in his cherished arms with stubbornness in his cherished arms, as if he had a full right to get the absolute love finally and then keep it to himself. He eagerly ****** in the life-fitting breast milk, and while the beautiful pregnant mother, who recently complained about how she was going to be a pregnant, disgusting ball in the bikini on the beach, now finally understood that she could get the most beautiful gift she had can ever hold.

So the pregnant mother became a little half-adult, half again child, and she felt in her heart how the universe was just a dance of instincts, and later meat-blood. And while the relationship break, it seemed, it was never more radiant, balanced and happier!

The Alliance of Old Friends seemed to be renewed again when the mobile rang: "Don't be sorry, but you could come in! I became a baby! "-and the long-forgotten, adolescent adolescents suddenly started flaming again. It came with a human-height teddy teddy bear and meaningful broth. There was no need for words that were unnecessary.

The lasting change is now even better to avoid; It is now an increasingly naughty, stagnant, miserable, vocal promise speeches, and how superfluous, self-denying sermons. Anyone who thinks that obsessions that are persistent have a baby's face, is a long-term fool; The soul seemed to become a dark pyramid, which, if no one speaks to him, would absorb his victims as a gaping gap.

It is as if brain-washed people were now so impressive, texting the heavenly mantra that starts with the "sausage from the sausage" that "some people" are more aware of the petty lies. -As if it could not be easily, to say, loose-and-leaning, neither the unbearable color changes of the seasons, nor the meaningful treasures of the human life that look like dust, which are always unique and unrepeatable among the expanding tissues of time.

In the coated city, even the diplomas are now resting; Permanent disillusionment has long been ahead of the noble feelings. Like the occasional, stumbling drunken, hesitated, hesitant steps are marching with the disturbed, dilapidated Calvary of the century, and the Yorick-Mountains of Yorick.

Slowly, the rich people will be invited to the moon region of the wealthy Skafander collection V.I.P.- partying and shopping, as the ozone layer on the planet seemed to be destroyed early, and only those who have a separate permission can only be breathed.

Perhaps it would be better to continue everything with new pages and from the front if we saw the red-dark moles-tunnels in the depths of gloomy moles ...

The details are almost irrelevant. Outside, petty pigeon races are tense if necessary, if not to each other, and even so, it is always sure who the actual winner is. The simple average one way or another, but it is untig and totally fed up. The ***** stuffed into the cetrifuge, like the everyday Michael's things - not even noticed - are surprisingly suddenly wandering and tangled so much that it is easier to cut through the Gordian knot than to decipher the pathetic, manipulative, Studies and people keep.

It is necessary to be stretched over and over again decades ago, otherwise they will be permanently separated and threatened with passing; Because the relationship of depth and height to balances is now a sticky mud or small -style puddle, in which one and a half mattle innocence are swirling so that they may be filthy to the spot of their souls.

The decayed smile on the faces was fossched because they had secretly believed in the swamp of the uncertain tomorrow, and even if, out of accident, a plan or idea of ​​a lost misunderstanding was rather prone to the peculiar banner.

Visible Angels Choir-Kara, who often puts his gentle hand on his heads, and the Jericho trombones echoing from the air, as if they were blowing alarms, the indispensable universe ...

I would say something else to you orphaned, eternal worrying kid, I have to get yourself up if they hurt me, people who are nothing. I would tell you something if you are dreading a crouching full moon at night, because you think you are just ghost or goblt, just be firm and brave and not show your wounded-*******, dreaded fears.

Many times I would call you a time-to-date machine mobile, if you would be a little more attentive to my wise, thoughtful words, which you still think would rather be discarded rather than meaningful advice; I know childhood may often seem like a two-way dead end, which sooner or later may fall or get lost, but you should always stay yourself and by no means let the absolute, Marcona adults sit or influence your Kobak head.

Put your childhood, playful curiosity with your sick heart, your liver, shaking hands and secret oath to yourself: _ I will stay for a couple of years who can know my friends so far! I will be loyal to myself. "_ - and while your aging, eyeglasses would look at the uncertain horizon, sillabising where the end of existence can be and how much more can happen. There are alms, sanding hands, sanda, nonsensical promises.

Something, even so many decades - would be good to tell you; You can never feel that they are mocked, deliberately shamed, mocked, evil, and if your grandchildren will not be ****** on your balding ping-pong head, you may have stayed yourself all the time!

As if they were rushed to be aimlessly between the puppets that were made; We need to change digital identifiers with false fingerprints to find us unnecessarily. It is necessary to avoid broken road signals instead of searching for the necessary compromise on the necessary cooperation. Life is almost utterly mortal passing away, and it can be said to be a wolf because we are ashamed of dioptric soda siphone and rather converted to more comfortable contact lenses.

The broken curve mirrors in which our portraits are wearing a day-to-day depths of conscious purposelessness, physical exhaustion. Geller was given more and more difficult to stay at the peak of social pyramids; Because not only the language of meaning, but also the rules of the meaning of the meaning, which change their petty, compromising methods every day, has become a tower of the midwives.

Why do you have to live a day to siren the minutes of siren over it?! On the stretched ropes of our troubled nerves, they march and march; Indifferent yawning in the odds is now still nesting with persistent suspicion. Our tricky movements may seem like a rhythm.

It is as if the petty, small -style betrayal of everyday life had been deliberately depressed into our selfish, galad, shrinkage, that you. You have to prevail at any cost, and of course it is necessary to survive. Card Castle plans are diligent, but we are asked to be an unbelieving-bamboo: why is it necessary to spend money on uselessness?!

We are my friend to deny everything a million times nowadays: sweet-sad loves, torturing, burning breaks just like universe feelings. Can you ask my friend who could have been the bigger traitor: the constantly loss-making, vulnerable heart, or just a series of desire for spontaneity?! "You are looking for your answers in vain, as if they didn't exist anymore, because it was always more important to be a little style, Pipogya career, and the awareness of what others think behind your back."

Once upon a time, you undress to the bone to see your inner, more true being than a mole-bearer who first ventures to the surface and frightened because he is forced to blink; You will blink a lot yourself like a blind, glassy swollen mushroom, cowardly rabbit if your beloved dear is just an unexpected announcement: Sorry, but she loves something else for a long His needs, nor his tingling instinct-molecules, which you knew faithfully, remained loyal to you.

It gets empty at an accelerated pace, perhaps just because you could never really understand the petty, insidious rules of the troubled, complex life. In your dreams, your selfish-mushy ******* would try a host to yourself, and when you look at the depths of mirrors, you will surprise yourself as a curious-child Esti Esti; How did you think all your dreams, your desire, would be fully fulfilled!

All of you will be in your instincts, and you will only be shocked if you are nervously unexpectedly doubtful, uncertainty, preserved in vain as the basic formulas of Spleen.

Perhaps no one can be completely on the lookout, because, in vain, we would have become a petty, pathetic life. As a miserable, Hugo's manipulation, calculating interest, and we are clever at any time, bravely as they deliberately throw their principles and ambitions.

We started the conscious Nirvana-Nothing maybe today, and we never really asked ourselves: did we lie truth to ourselves, or just the love that was played into the universe with our wounded hearts?!

Even if we had pure crocodile tears towards each other, they had long since run into heaven as a pale glass *****; At night, a crouching, anxious-shaded farm beat themselves on the deficiency of themselves, which we could only guess about the passing of a brother-in-law.

From human eyes, like broken shirts, a star was severely knocked; They are uncomfortable with the whole that consumes the whole. - Now are we now necessary for permissions to take permanent breathing, and if one, say, steals a little Rákóczi winter salami and half a pound of bread is going to be in the Cotra?!

Those who have often waited for us in uncertainty and convinced that tomorrow could be a little lighter, later they will leave us unexpected and leave permanently. Because for a long time, the rogue cards have been played if they only feel soda to easily open the abundant money purse.

We boil boring, distorted, petty revenge, when we subside, we have the incredible instincts, we sprinkle salt on our wounds, and let it hurt!

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 ...

Ourselves should simply be comforted, perhaps crystal clear throughout a living life; Our committed, stupid, yet human, petty mistakes are warning, until finally, it can easily be left for us. The profound power rehearsals of will and humility are barely existing nowadays, only if it is just mentioned at higher levels of instructions or referred to it within spectacular frameworks.

Because for some reason the aspects that are now hidden; Whoever broke up, then broke up, and eventually forgotten the right of stormy emotions, as further spiritual weights, the soul's ever -wearing, vulnerable depths, where even the miner is not very daring.

Celeb-blink, beauty-made shores on the conveyor belts are carried by the digital space everywhere, so that the sensationalist and the average person who has made a lousy bargain can only stare at the life of Jancsi. When will billions of understanding molecules-stimulating emotions come permanently and really fulfilled?!

It would be good to feel in the depths of the Star Eyes with the omniscient eye, and the manipulated soul could not allow anyone to bribe it at any time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pudding test

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How many more wasted, pitiful, nightmare-filled, futile vigils are needed for a moment that was said to be eternal, to let not only the lack that is said to be permanent, but also the emptiness to leak out once and for all?! Despite the deliberately diverted parts, it seems as if the pitifully structured scenario could have always remained the same.

Sooner or later, someone will really get to know someone, and what's more, on an instinctive, visceral level, they will unexpectedly throw them away, saying; he delved too much into the other's more personal, more modest, lyrical self, which is like a thick, unbreakable walnut gut, and it's a tough job to even break it open, especially when someone tries to protect and protect his soul with doubled spiral walls.

Then comes another love that flirts with the Universe, but is still trite, which may seem to totally replace, change, and convert the person in question, until finally, one fine day, it ends in a painful breakup simply because the secret gigantic weight, the outbursts of honest, lying emotions are no longer they can be enough to make everything right, or just make up for it.

Questions, new illusions, and insecurities surround the individual day by day, and when the registrar's finale comes, instead of the obligatory yeses, nos are heard, because material well-being is still worth more than a paltry, life-smelling petty emotion. But the long-awaited solid and eternal snail-house happiness just can't come, since both parties made a petty, calculated deal in their own way, so they bargained at the same time. It's a shame to put the apparent oiliness in yet another set of question marks.

The current social conventions, which can be chosen on purpose, are still deliberately imposed on each individual and try to regulate the life of the traditional average, while, condensed into a single minute, the given life will soon fly away, and there will not be a single witness left who knows who was, or could have been, the another?!

Everyone knows by now: Mouse nibbling pulverizes the brain, reason, and culture, and every shrill, shrill sneaking around becomes unfathomable in the cauldron of souls. Everyone gets a vigilant donkey's head, and more and more often the simple court fool can only be absolutely right.

Stuttering in the soothing sheep choir is now becoming more and more popular. Minutes's field of vision is getting narrower and narrower, the superficial success of minute-man blue. Discounted autographs and superficial gestures are handed out by the privileged and the deserving. Even sweet mistakes lose themselves on purpose. More and more people are claiming that they have the right to be successful or to earn a lot of money as an influencer. In a black-and-white world, simplified things can easily become complicated.

Now, foolish brutes and wild animals enjoy themselves and parade in abundance. The embittered odious words that once spiced up the cozy night with an idyllic, sweet romance - now, in bitter, stripped-down habit, they are deepening further and further in their own, selfish underworld. That a real lady could so easily succumb to the sight of a macho testosterone Titan after a single candlelit dinner. He can't give a compliment yet, but he drives a Porsche or even a Ferrari if he feels like it; and the soul-seeing willow poet may fall on his face sooner.

Now fewer and fewer people can climb to the heights of the Heaven of emerging Being; fewer and fewer soul-seeers could remain on their feet, just like the truer, more immortal believers in Allness, who could still feel the vulnerable joys of Being in the midst of the materialized world!

The flickering sliver of night light now encloses the pitch black like a looming, cracked lampshade. Outside, the brutal cold of winter, which wants to gnash its teeth, bends icicles, even though it is only minus two at the moment. "That's plenty too!" - you think, while a lost yellow-cheese taxi carelessly passes in front of your house.

Something has stopped again and disappeared from this World that is now starting the new year. You can't be 100% certain that you've actually just become a tolerated, transiting guest, who is asked to go to hell behind your back with the very first elegant gesture, or is pestered for a while with wait-and-see, honey-glazed tactics. - A surprising number of people flounder through their own ****** lives, as if everything and everyone is already spiraling towards the great common debtor, from which there is neither escape nor return.

The fake passwords that also attack the other worlds in the form of belated rescuers rarely, if ever, arrive on time; an elderly mother collapses on the open street corner, while curious, naive, almost childlike onlookers rush around her, while her carefree and worn-out body sighs out its thought-to-be-immortal soul as the last unfinished chapter.

The wretched shell-loneliness, and rather the increased avoidance of redundancy, increasingly tempts the still-stuck living. - The fate of the lost often scares even those who are only now trying to learn and teach the acid and pepper of the capitalized but lying Life. The projected vision of the future is now even more glaring, and even more conspicuous. The beginning and end are often barely recognizable!