Restlessness can hardly afford a march of raging hearts! Our vows have even absorbed what can be saved at all with his words of allegiance! Why does modesty breathe when it takes shape?! Unaware of his own abilities, distorted, jerking himself down into a jerky barn without the ideal of chivalry in phlegmatic mg; blind-eyed human wreckage sniffs out remaining human brains like a sherbet and there can be no meaningful intelligence collection on the forehead eaten! Depleting, bad kind of drunkenness is rampant in the empty Congo depths of angels, and conscious vulnerability is already a self-deepening chasm!
 
All window-eyes are blinded! A feeling of conscious vulnerability infiltrates our skins! Diseases pinned to the executioner's peak Celeb heads bloom; a superstitious, flirtatious look flirting with invisible tango between broom-eyed eyes! Pigeon-autumn strands fall into silently beaten, welded skulls! As housekeeping skulls, one of the girilla brains barks for Man to wear off his current chick! Up there, even a big, lurking World is rotting! The most ostentatious monkey: multi-sided and complex stadiums have been installed by the wealthy oligarch machinery!
 
The middle way to dream-promised well-being is leaking from more and more wounds from constantly renewing, scalding surfaces! The meager bread-making of a livelihood is marred by half a dozen gourmet-living, septic tanks, who can boldly live even on the back of the ice, if they please! - In the dimly crouching afterlife, the bloodthirsty moonlight rumbles like a sharp-killer knife and takes its selfish victims - like a Congo ghost clock that sends messages with demons! Beyond the tranquility, one can barely touch the shore…

Like a shipwrecked, he clings to unknown shores on the last soul, but he may never reach shore; my throat was hoarse silently many times and my voice continued to sound like a muffled sigh! As a rodent worm for my heart attack-stressed soul, the greedy and insatiable Compulsion settles like this! I would have to, even if I had to be selfish for myself, sure of Man
 
survive! The haunting moonlight tattoos my face like shards of silent shadows! And while you ask, asking with jagged tentacle teeth useless, "What happened to you?!" "The sure answer will be written on the trenches of my wounded Face if the glass bead of True Beads trembles again in my soul!"
 
My broken body guards the burdens of tough-konokan and what many discover on me as a redemptive smile - Suffering! I feel like he is howling every day with the intention of squeezing my muscles, numbing Nirvana-Dark, erupting from the depths of Executioner of times! I am already struggling with selfish, selfish pride: how could the man-trying burdens of this Being be better solved?! Suicide - if there was one - didn't even hit a wooden stick! I cling to the consoling-hopeful shreds of blissful days like this; I stare terribly at the Report with trembling blood-eyes! The Nobody's House, which slowly frees me from everything and deliberately lootes it!
 
Wandering, fast stigma-Souls are plagued by coding, vile evenings: it would be good to unravel the chains of my ominous pains to be redeemed - I listen in the present pregnant fog of the bottomless cavity of Time that it gapes Damocles executioners!

How should you live your life better?! More than eight hours of your time is spent on the teeth-gnashing torment of general, but unrewarding work, of which – not much – is the overhead, and your pension is not sure to last you for the rest of your life. Three hours are spent just explaining to your kind of mouthy, adored wife with prehistoric methods why you can't go on vacation to the Maldives or the Seychelles even three or four times, because due to restrictions, even the free beaches of Lake Balaton have been largely closed to the simple, poorer classes of people. You tear your hair out like a petty, notorious neurotic, who – perhaps – is no longer sickened by a system, but by the many petty, bribeable puppet-men and puppet-deals, due to which this whole mess of filth is managed as a whole.

It might be a shame to replay the memories of petty physiological situational slaps and falls; otherwise you wouldn't get much out of it. Your beloved love suddenly announces: She's had enough of you, and that you've turned into a vile, worthless *******, unfortunately through no fault of your own, since there were layoffs at the multinational company where you've already spent about fifteen or twenty years.

How are you supposed to live your life better?! You don't even know, because in the meantime, your aorta seemed to burst due to an almost fatal heart attack, and your coronary arteries could use a lot of heavy and massive repair. You might still dare to act, but not only your life-walls, but also your Me-Time are being closed in a vile and wicked way, mainly by celebrities who constantly only understand the permanent sensation-*******, and of course they are paid handsomely.

Your youngest daughter mostly doesn't even want to know you anymore, because if you don't pull the ******* yoke of misery, and while you're in line for some baked goods in a supermarket, your daughter demands Barbie and a Frozen doll, and even a little mini-tyrant character will torture you until you can't take it anymore and at the end of your exhausted day you buy her the toy doll. What could your pitifully wasted life be for, when all you wanted was a little independent peace and a deck chair near the shade of your quince tree; and when your little daughter becomes a bride, you, like an old, toddling old man, ask yourself: ,,What did all those incomprehensible, melancholy decades of yours go for?!

In the depths of the mirror, deliberately shattered hopes tremble; crumbling lines on the sincere-crying pit-grooves of faces would shout! Beautifying tear ***** throbb in feathers! No one can know if the labyrinths of our emotions are sincere, whether the human heart is honest or liars?! In the counterfeit machines kept under brain control, even memory degrades and gives birth to Nirvana deserts!
 
What can be hidden in the deep? The childhood image of ourselves as absolute adults can be understood more and more often! Many times, the fact that computational thinking always stops in the way of emotions as profit-seeking and deliberately raises barriers! Deserved happiness is also just another, cherished air fortress: whoever deserves it can no longer walk! - Even in our horrible long-lasting minutes, we should consciously learn how to inherit development, the iron-solid Will and the hope that although our common affairs may soon be the pillars of destruction, we also have a little prerogative for lasting prosperity!
 
Many times it goes unnoticed that we are deliberately exhausted by a cheering deficit: but it could be good to live when empathy tolerance can make a difference with seemingly sought-after stereotypes, and instead of sincere condolences. I would appreciate it! And those who preached the tramples of once wicked soles should not be harmed by the testifying lesson: “Man! Love your neighbor! ”
 
Our reluctant words in graying moon faces tremble for each other and are still afraid when I would have to confess voluntarily.

Wait for me again! Silently open your arms. It’s so nice to get lost in your flag-burning eyes now that I’ve long forgotten! You kept my head in the midst of your banging, purple bangs, and you cared my serenity to caress me caringly! As the caring mom evokes fear and the shadow of terrible goblins in the evening!
The unquenchable universe of truth is scorched by the flames in this minute that we have both received as gifts. Above my face you are: A blessed-looking, full-smiled angel. The wings of your protective swan hand weave around the abundance of my oak shoulders, my hairy, prolific Enkidu chest weaves around like an amber tendril,

s sudden! Wait for me! If you love don't go! The prison cell of the ancient loneliness has been let go, it will not let go. “I bathed with you when you were by my side in your infinite harmony, in your spacious sea-lap, which calms my rippling storms.

"I couldn't understand how long I could cling to your spasm rejection and my selfish exile?" Please don't even deny it: The first despised the tiny raging SMS You wrote and I always listened to you in the gap of your tearful hours; I supported you!

My destiny is torn! And I regret not committing the sins of my deeds anymore! Would I have ended up as a disposable rag in a love trash can ?! You tasted the silky Eden cube-wedding of my chocolate with a longing, ******-bomber: you gave a kiss even in questionable and fatal fragment-minutes!

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…

It multiplies itself into a Spirit wholly born out of nothing; staring at star-clocks seems like a fleeting minute at the Fate! The victim closes his eyes in front of his dream images of the creep of an uncertain future! In the ****** vortices of tomorrow's days, only the guards can be alert! It would be good to discover the roaring roar of your distant sea with true love, in brilliant-laughing eyes!
 
A human head shape, a congregation of grinning pebbles lurking around me from everywhere; instead of superstitious, romantic kisses nailed to papermen, the stray time quickly absorbs it! They tickle, hum, grin when our emotions of honesty have been lying for a long time! Stimulators of action set off chirping raiding, while more and more of the humble hideouts lurking in the ivory tower froze in silence! - Lava spit dropped on the full side of liar-insidious encouragers like house walls send green secretions; my heart pounding like a wounded rock deeply stopped by lightning!
 
Maybe I can’t even get rusty up the hillside anymore! My selfish orphanage has made its way nowhere in myself! My friendly handshakes, as a series of pathetic attempts to make lasting connections, are looked down upon in a selfish way: a bleak, otherworldly backdrop that many can’t eat or drink - it will soon go to heaven! This is how he will be naughty from simlis to his heart, because he is always scratching himself for himself! During the far-flung years, like the effervescence after the effervescence; there is a constant desire for lack! How many more movements remain in the memory space?

My dear earthly friendship is a glorified Universe! When I looked at you with hesitant, squeaking trembling after the winter-smelling aftermath of windy March idus; my incredible despair, and my selfish self-pity calvary — Intentionally you could feel yourself — if you wanted to — I didn’t go there to you! My chubby bones were rattled and crackled by the wind of the ordas: the crouching shadow on the line of my heel turned into an ugly bat wing and the peoples of the gentlemen were dressed like a *****! With ringing, friendly letters every day
 
I honor you and the sure doubts continue to make you uncertain: Are you still reading at all? And your redeeming tender Gioconda pillar glows again to a noble thought and we can become Friends!
 
But fearful: My life-giving, broad hope fades like a rotten straw in my silently killing Time, because you are not by my side to lift me up! The silly whims of tinsel trends are driving Man to my fashion monkey camp today! I would like to glorify understanding and Peace! Crying with humble humility I call you Dear to lift you up close to yourself! My stupor and my soul might be able to successfully confront those who sin against me, the marchers of my soul! "Without compromising on hateful compulsions, I might want to trust you alone when everyone else has left!"
 
Your quiet Universe being would glow on the hearts of my beating heart if you could, and honor me with the Angelic possibilities of your empathy! - You know: When I cry, a Child in me whines with you who needs to be comforted! My joy might be able to wake up alone next to you…

I was limping with stumbling footsteps, in the twilight of moonlight! Side-lurking, fierce trees stood chained, saluting; attention! Trembling animal sediment, in an ominous silence, I kept expecting the expelled darkness to break into the light! My tears, unstoppable tears were trembling and anxious, and they had finally stopped there! In a roaring sense of danger, I must have exclaimed and recognized myself; only on the side of my immortal Beloved could holy Peace have been created now; I had already doubled my playful, childhood self, and it would have been good to know it safe: I could still alleviate the wrath of Man!
 
"Vultures pushed back and forth and none of them asked, 'Can you help me with something?' "I would have liked to hide in a mountain of celestial cosmos blades of grass!" Unnoticed as a timid hedgehog music in the caves of Avar-piles!
I should still find the One-One stray ray that glows and guards in the darkness at the same time because it wants to protect! Chopped cloves of cheese between the lips of the two crescents also turn happiness into a balmy, radiant night radiating flame of happiness!
 
"Our little pathetic disasters could not have illuminated the situation any better: we always stop sympathetically before the freedom of entrances!" For many, it’s already a momentary, Heaven’s joy to be able to chew conspicuously on the screens of public tabloid channels while also replacing the week leader with dwarves! The superstitious lady often guided me with *******! Among the gorilla-faced, inflated Colossus Titans, I don’t even feel good anymore; it would have been nice to have romantic, budding, romantic kisses!
 
Stimulated igniters are threatened by small, word-of-mouth pus pushers, and the proud opportunity to ascend and escape must also come to mice hiding in mouse holes

The eternal-child soul may one day grow up to the ennobled tragedies of fate; it will be blinded by the lack of Nothing that nests in the subconscious, because only one chance is possible for the pairs of proportions. In the meantime, as the periods of life history alternated more and more shallowly, the desire for certain falls became insoluble again. The foaming waves of oceans also lost their sails, because man cannot find the Odyssey of homesickness only in death. One day man will understand why it is necessary for him to still post faithfully in temporary circumstances on the bands of the lowest boundlessness, so that his time does not run out early, the promised fruits of the small Sisyphean weights without space and time can only grow and be created around the house of others.

Why can't the human word find a suitable analogy for the inner, more hidden soul?! Because there is only one possible answer to completeness, just like the fillable Universe?! Today's digitally underdeveloped age deliberately lacks the reliable monotony of paced, rhythmic slowness; even in the beating, feeling heart, there is a total lack of emptiness if it is unable to decipher and interpret the belittling feedback of a given microenvironment. The feelings of the duplicated Self are often consciously covered up by the personality that shows the surface.

- They put their self-identity to sleep, or wake it up from its dreams. Because Being, a little beyond death, finally rests on the branch of Nothingness!

It would be good to know that you are guarding the coals, even under the rapid ash; Will, humility, humanity should not go to landfill or lose, just because the superficial, exhibitionist world is now to make ritual head washing in brainwashed monkeys. You should not leave yourself, just like the mass people who get on with each other, they are suspiciously suspicious of being on Lamburgini, Ferrari, or Porschs, mainly on the Andrássy Road of Paris.

Unfortunately, you know that noble intention to be improved nowadays is getting stuck more and more, like some efushed Robinson's shipwreck, and leaves more creative-creator thoughts on robbery chains, since only some more influential circular companies produce a profit profit. Goodness and purpose are now turning your back, because in dark moles, you are looking for labyrinths, and you are now unable to use the cheap use of practical survival: you sell or if you don't pay attention!

Even our naked soul preserves the tamed evening light of inner visions, because it never benefits. Ancient harmony and tranquility perhaps only on the ocean-party pearl Island, if you can find a man in the earthly paradise, where angels are happiness and enjoy the fullness of life.

Once upon a time, it would be good to throw away all the small -style Sififus terrestrial burdens from our anxious inwardlessness, and to keep that inner coals with loyalty to someone while possible. As a radar screen, sincere love is perceived by indoor echoso sounds, only the current modern man is scared of him precisely because he puts only cheap material things in the order of the emotions.

It cuts into my face the immutable fact of Time as it has passed, the pre-ordained Coal-Lack, the life-giving presence — the Uncertain! When, stepping out of the door of security, he stumbles upon the *****, rattling structure of my limp-strong thunder-wind limbs! My non-selfish self-giving is dulling, much more the lack of opportunities to be offered again! I was busy with daily evening questions! A dubious experience lurks between my long-running fears and then re-emerging fears, exercising his limbs like the wild lurking on the column!
 
A stifling awakening also deepens in aborted moments when I have already successfully postponed everything! The daytime period is handing out half-dreams graciously, and can’t wait to get bitten into it by yawning! In the night, both the counting and the vigilant shadow begin to feverishly ponder! Slowly, sneezing, the restrained will also hides in my heart! An old, stifled movement is more of a selfish burden on everyone! Our shadows, if we don't take care of ourselves, pass on to others without a word!
 
Beyond the memories of the body, continents of storms are raging! When twisting desires pressed us as a stamp of Loyalty?! Stunned and sobbing, none of them dared to break to the top; among the galactic excuses of hated pasts, we all somehow hurried through! - The punishment imposed pays with poor naivety! Even on a planned night, it is often the case that geller falls into one reckoning! Everyone can feel the depleting moons that account for life on their own skin! The thread of yesterday - maybe - just shatters between our memories! How many missing-healing stitches are needed to heal wounds?

Deer eyes glistening richly with mirad stars shine in my eyes: possible and impossible! As treasures, I keep even happier memories of a miserable, sad Being and rippled waves of tears like restless waterfalls flowing into Nirvana-nothing! Growing above our heads every whole day, but also in pieces, we cross our borders and limitations! In slow-moving universe kisses, how long can you keep Faithful Love, which cannot slam the gates of the open Spirit and betray you in ambush?!
 
We can see our selfish fears in unison and maybe even overcome them! Even our unwashed shirts are all drowning in sobs! A four-day mustache bribes me first to leave, then it stings hell-prickly! Missing scissors are straining his breathing throat and he is having a silent debate with his continuing Existence! Why is superstition of the superstitious Kisses of the Universe lacking in Human Faithfulness?!
 
Body s Soul is not always united in the same dimension! A disembodied crypt-like face stares back at me from the loneliness of cracked mirrors: interrogates and asks! "Why didn't you do everything for your secure relationships, and why did you miss so many worthy opportunities to be sure to fill out for someone?!"

- A wave of movement rocking even in the eyes of superstitious stars; movements are fragmented by the rock! In a falling motion, only suicides can still be vigilant! In horizontal silence, the Eye caresses vertical gazes! “Everyone is disappointed in their youthful cry that they barely tried to stay children

Halfway between heaviness and conscious cracks, not only the power of action and will cracks, but also a little of the uncompromising humility; the awakened self-consciousness would need to hear the inner wave-rumble of the Soul. Outside, drunken wasps are fighting over each other's squirming prey, drilling holes in the rich, juicy career fruits, thus radically limiting the realizations of completeness reserved for simple average people. Nowadays, fewer and fewer people can understand the broken string of truthful, sincere tears, the appearance-Reality seems to fall back into itself, and the emotion is corruptible.

The constant nervousness vibrating on the irises can also increasingly infect the persistent, ineradicable suspicion, which, like glue, really functions as an adhesive, even in the breakable appearance-exhibitionism, but it would be good – at least – to kick it in earnest every now and then. Only the persistent humming, murmuring of deafness in the tiny canals of hearing ears, which are no longer really worried about the fifteen decibels, but the general lines of informers and traitors, who, like silent accomplices, give each other the openable handles on the doors of offices that are thought to be closed.

On the neon signs on the dilapidated firewall, the ashen faces of some celebrity starlets still shine brightly, though not for long, because the moment one actually meets them, the cheap, tinsel-like pedestal that once surrounded the auras of personality, raised to light years, suddenly collapses. – Now they still tolerate the presence of silent listeners, nicknamed permanent – but be careful – maybe not for that long. It is as if one would now deliberately close the iron gate of raw silence on oneself, not letting even one's closest relatives in, who have known one since one's shipwrecked childhood.

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!

… They hear less and less! I lie beneath cell depths and like a crusty Pearl of Truth — shards of glass of unspoken Truths tremble in my heart; Doubt also hurts my face, smiles and grimaces! And treading jerks love to tread on my operated leg! My pouring vulnerability freezes in myself, which I still have no experience with, and I can hardly tolerate the fact that the wretched Being loves to rotate the rusty knives that have been cut in me!
 
For he who is stuck in his own way and lacks in fear, because he knows what to do, sins against himself; half-nailed praying eyes also look at the Savior's smiles like the gifted candy-eating snacks of a child! "The petals of my knocking, weak heart may still open for Someone, and I don't have to hide it intentionally if I don't want to escape the incisors of young chicks!"
 
My screaming wit would be good if you could unleash it with devotional understanding Someone: Who else can hear with this stunted world because I have to hide myself: my common sense is still making me careful human survival plans! To survive the ruins of days and to exist even when they are easily forgotten in chips! As a blue pearl, maybe somewhere for me it exists and worries about a blessed human Star!
 
I silently let my things happen to me: I’ve been in emigration for thirty years! It is also impossible to say! I will try to turn my pages so that my conscious Loneliness can be more of a friendly companion - not my vulnerable deserted Loneliness…

Outside, tears are besieging his fragile ****** plaster. But inside, in the ball-cosmos of eyes, in the spheres of retinas, the reality of sadness became more and more likely and vulnerable! As a careful survivor, we cherish the seeming pain and the ruins of emotions for a while, and yet we do not ask: Have we changed or stood up again? “One gem is pale, the other crystal carrying the treasure, the third glass palace, and all so fleeting and mortal. They work in the secret cavity catacombs of the body, the always living cell engines are biological particle molecules!

People may once again melt into one in a sea of ​​pain. - Even those who have yet learned to respect the still rules of existence will remain alien in vulnerability, when the falling humanity of Reality will be revealed in the face of a shower of tears! Pain - not knowing where it comes from! However, at the metronome of secret stimulus thresholds, everyone understands and you can never get out of miserable bitterness in vain, because they have a hopeful hope that there is and maybe even may not yet know it!

Because whoever shatters and breaks in his heart, the stem cell and atomic explosion of carved crater cavities into his soul will be the hardest thing to do! - Just the apocalypse pit; the den in which the Cassandra stamps of Life have multiplied will be the last judgment, in which sufferings and tears will be caught again, bursting to the surface bubbling!

The exotic beauties of schools are also grouped into selfish, small-style sects! How many have already called themselves ******* Virgins?! He coded helplessly on creeping street corners while longing for true Immortality! Léah taverna-pimps gather Judas swags, which are easily obtained with insidious intent; who will drive the industry to nausea sooner or later, and it will be too late for those who can be saved! You can get a slap in the face for a cheap overnight swing! The usury ushers, small-style house angels, preach with responding lap-jaws! "Even a calculated crazy crouching Shadows turn into a camphor with dreams of whistling!"
 
The non-Golden Medium carries the shadow of swaying hangovers the next day! Light on the powdered faces of deaf people closes and the botox collagen starts to spawn; it can be lean consolation just for the risks of survival at all times! Hordes of men, with overbearing arrogance, scatter insidious handshakes, cheap promises, and when the age of proof comes back, they step down! Even today, disaster-prone melodies make us ******* dances, and it is not certain that the life-giving Light can still cling to the depths of darkened algae!
 
Great mouth heroes, diligent throwers can only scrape out the orphaned chestnuts for this present-day Present! The crimes of leisure pumpkins are swept under the rug with a calm heart! "Unruly, otherworldly brain evenings split into shards, and among the millions of small glass pots, gurgulans are the many pieces of the throbbing True Pearl!" Vigilant squatting dogs in the barn of vigilantly guarded alleys roar; themselves themselves can scarcely know who can be friends and enemies? Some troublemakers have retired already, and now it would be so good for a prophetic eccentric to be able to lead the way for sure

We cherish the cryptic bodies in eternal twilight for the coming times! Our mortality falls on the bottom of the Nirvana wells as split onion shells! Blind Neapolitan weaves a silent judgment and bleeds us as ****** beasts, the faithful! Fascinated by dark-skinned celebs, greedy career and fame-hunting have been hailed as the downy-dreamy luxury of sofas! - Cracked, bleeding Twilight lips will always hurt with aching stigma-wound: Horde-fist tacos lesson!

And there are always secretly complimenting, beautiful art-words for immortal lovers! He dreams of suicide scissors in the live-guardian and looks at the Big Unknown Book of Fate curiously; why is it that the slightest scream is already frozen to death when you awaken the Dear with the rose-toothed dawn with its purple wings enclosed in light circles ?! "Everybody will walk through the surface of the curved mirrors once to see their sincere character!" Your body, like a gentle blossom, collapses like a silk fan!

In and of itself, we need to preserve the immortal childhood magic of rainbow crystals! With enormous tentacles, conscious fear embraces you, as uncertainty moves in and out of a circled death circle! Tomorrow I will wake up again tomorrow and listen to the turbulent surges in the purple cavities of my body!

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!

A pre-dancer would be carved out of me in vain by the faded, sloppy World: a jerky cord! A flattered prophet and a witty eccentric, I would rather never bargain with his selfish laws if they sounded! Let the rebels breathe without me! In the open, many times I still feel bribed by my dreaded fear! As a startled little boy, I am already ashamed to go among the people who keep promising! As a disillusioned light, I would look for my prosperity, who if thrown out the door isn’t sure it will climb back out the window yet!
 
The insidious eyeball of blindfolders flashes like a loot and strikes every second; double handshake often turns into strife when there is no Eris nearby! - I ***** in the ambiguous obscurity as a stray dog and I have to beg for the pondros that have taken on human faces: "It would be good to gain experience and expertise as a friendly favor!" "One fateful day, I will eagerly be my own destiny and a compromised accomplice with a terrible organization!" The world is already facing slow motion warping; I would wait awkwardly for the right moment so that the flame of the Universe minutes could wink at me again!
 
As an unwanted payer, can the captivity of elevator shafts be left to mine alone?! Incompetent weakness surprises him by surprise; no one cares about my cared limbs! Silent, konok interest strains me and recreates my imagined dreams every day! I enter the crater of unknown moon courts in a spacesuit body and I can no longer bother that my worn shoes will smell at most! Soft intrigue, konok closure is gradually following me! Even now, as an adult, I imagine my precious Time to be spent with my loved ones!
 
The camp of the disabled did not help to find new opportunities! - Wandering mortals thrive selfishly into the gaping cavities of piles

You constantly wander the path of angelic walks, as if you secretly suspect that a child's face is looking back at you from the crooked depths of mirrors, which seems to never age, yet you often think of it as an old man. The uncertain future is also an increasingly crippled ladder, because you lie to yourself when you think you can still fix or change anything.

The fever curve of your willful pride seems to be deliberately shot through in the morning by a stray arrow of conscious doubts; gurgling noises secretly terrify you, in case they might disturb you or harm you even more; the Present dissolves instantly, even if you are not willing to take care of it, apart from your skin that wants to peel, you still speak with broken Apocryphal signs, but only those who accept it completely and as a whole can understand it.

Halfway between swaying rows of walls, you are forced to stumble like the occasional drunkard, because you are afraid to know the one-essence; perhaps only the great Nirvana-nothing can await you with more complete loyalty, without giving itself away. Yet, in the rocky depths of your knowable soul, the eternal child who you have always been envelops itself in swirling silence! Memory and humility purr within you, perhaps only until you recognize the One-Beloved again, who will accompany you for a lifetime!

To hide, to escape. Cheap and not-ripe with the weights of Tomorrow on my limbs, painted green and blue by the squeaky revenge! You should hide — yes, sneak into the deep secrets of blessed-hearted mother-in-law. Stretch out as long as you can the unknown safety net to protect and protect you! - Or in diligent mole mode, digging denser caves of tunnels underground: Field worms,

perilous beetles may be accepted as unknown guests, my real lack cannot be complete, it cannot be Whole: My voicing conscience plays with me questions and answers every day and recognizes my lack. - The weight of the task is what pulled back: The responsibility of pen and paper recalls more and more, pulled back into the sobering consciousness; I can't leave yet, and I can't be part of the Nothing I am considering yet,

in whose country I would be transformed into a degraded ****, under persistent, non-sluggish patience! The law of hiding binds me, forces me to forget my retaining human reality, and in the abyss of my selfishness I can find my own way out! The wounded, battered coder of the days is just lurking,

in your persecution mania, whoever is behind you in the invisible is still obsessively, drug-killer? I deliberately hid myself in my heart with my treasures of compliments - if possible and always remember me - I could not even count and face my soul,

budge! The momentary self-esteem and self-confidence are bold in me, and now I know for sure - I would jump in vain:

I can never enjoy your unfulfilled, blissful love with you again!

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.

Leaning against the alley walls of our passing years, the silent silence followed in silence. On the hanging rope of Nirvana between time and space, the body of Adam ourselves looks into the depths of the gaping gaps! On the memorable journeys - where in hand - we go together begging-repenting heart also shivering; afraid to drive home will rarely! In common struggles of being, interdependence carries our own selfish Destiny! It has become a meat-cutting edge, for alamous, squeaky deeds and petty words!
 
Our wakefulness is gradually chewed and ground by the blinded Time! Luxury lives, like open, publicly imprisoned prisons, alternate their lives with seeming prosperities like fragrant lingerie, what more can the future bring them? "As an eternal wandering alien, you should have clung to the Being Sheaths with lasting roots until it's too late!" Choke Being Vacuum always digests its best! Self-beliefs can easily be swept away by the intoxication of the moment! Our committed guilt will continue in the depths of our beating hearts!
 
In a dazzling parade of eyes, we cross in search of our own lives, snarling rays flash on the surface of curved mirrors, snarling clouds! Giant, fornicate fists seem to be elongated, haunting shadows of fear at night: selfish reflections of ourselves! Everyone travels the counted highways of the times alone! - Hesitant attention could still stretch your neck ample; the lonely loneliness of exiled stateless people makes you think and closes around! Amid rapidly spreading shadows, wordless devastation destroys the night of friendship.

Every selfish annihilation in prideful, lived in insult, continues and makes an insidious trap! I always look back at the sad little boy's face in horror, hiding in slender, cracked mirror fragments, and I want to protect the trapped, lasting fear as well! As a growling worm, anyone tramples the limits of my wound; I could never back down again! Thin little shards of Judas moonshine hurt my skin when a balmy moonlight trembles hauntingly on the prison wall of my room! Rested, my troubled, million-wounded, perforated heart in the two eyes of heaven found in happiness!
 
It would be good to tremble together into deep, raven-feathered broomstick lashes and my frightened pagan soul would chuckle in the redemptions of kisses! "I'm still intentionally playing the naive navel among adults!" As a good Hamlet, I would only be available for humanity! My soul would wish for the donations of compassion and brass, not even my residual reserve pride will be forgotten! You should have learned by all from rich-eyes dripping-honey ditches lit up; I keep packing in and out already pathetic myself!
 
You can only thrive in outdoor churn confusion with a healthy umbilical cord, which is still waiting back and forth! Anyone can see with melancholy eyes I dared to stare at human races! My own donkey skin figure is ready yet I can't sell myself! "I filter the details of the dust particles through myself - even in daylight they can only see them if I want to!" The only goal may remain to preserve the goodness of Man in recurring, damaging events.

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?

It is becoming more and more necessary to descend into myself at every age; on the edge of the expandable Time and perhaps beyond. The tangled coils of my brain often form a Gordian knot, a lasso is tied by the consciousness of what else I need to ruin in order to develop, to learn, or just to learn from my petty, childish mistakes. From the neighbor, I hear a swarm of bee-like shouting, a childish scolding.

Two twin boys are madly in love again, wondering who can try out the newest Playstation?! In my selfish cave system, the film reels of my memories are still rolling unnoticed, addressing me; from the corners of long, winding rivers, a familiar face or two may still look back. Nothing can be a sufficiently black-and-white, silent episode in a person's life. My sickly foot stumbles halfway between spinning mosaic tiles.

I would recognize the echoing sound of my footsteps anywhere, only my Beloved is missing on one of my inner paths. Out there, in an unlivable desire to survive, they are at each other's throats, like wolves and hyenas who betray themselves at any moment, just so that they alone can be right; in my hamster-like cheek pouch, I have chewed a few Haribo gummies or a Neapolitan stringy snack, so that I never forget that I was once a child and curiously simple-minded.

Wild beasts and beasts are now raging in humanoid bodies at the same time, and one turns one's head in question: Will there never be a peaceful feeling of well-being, harmony, or development here?! Media-celebrity monkeys who are unable to articulate dictate fashion trends, while nameless-minute-humans receive millions in salaries from someone somewhere! We are increasingly unable to organize our evicted, mischievous lifestyle in a frugal manner!

Like when a human face is a whimsical, duelist, feudal hurt because he has to bear a vain spit in a responsible manner - he should be engrossed in humanity and morality, penetrating to the heart of something of great importance. To examine and observe how the material of acceptance of new lovable, unknown love leaks into the inner personality as one of its possible alternatives.

It is secretly embedded, spiced up with a bit of gossip, imposing a profound Calvary of our daily lives. Can honest evidence be used to take evidence or DNA samples ?! From the distorted romance of grimaceous faces, is it possible to notice a sense of contagious nervousness that is almost consciously striving to make a difference?

Between monotonous thrusts and purposeful throbbing, it would be good to have something that grabs and obeys deceptive morals, pseudo-morals. With ultra-violet X-rays, it would be nice to observe the nirvana-lethargy lurking behind Kharübdist, who found happiness behind him.

From the Heavenly Smiles that always send to somebody else's whitish flower petals, it would be good to filter the ability of deep-felt, complex vision; which does not condemn hastily, but always accepts, understands, comforts the other selfish Golgotha ​​in troubles with prudent purpose! - From the glittering luxuries, the needy cult man, the prophetic hermit, will gradually dream of himself! Embodied ideals nowadays have smilies and artificial plasticized practices!

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.

You should have slept forever humiliated for love! And to wake up in the manner of murderers with antisocial ruthlessness, harm spikes of unrestrainedness! For the sincere and courageous look of your eyes, the swan-delicate touch of your hand, it would have been good to lay my haunted head on your mother's lap and feel it confidentially: The throbbing beat of your blessed fragile heart still thinks of me.

True beads hung like glittering spherical ornaments on the fragile lash branches. Your sadness hurt your eyes with even reddening pains! it wasn’t a vain day that I wouldn’t have broken my head to eat happiness so that I could smuggle into your golden heart to travel with a smile of heaven again!

Now people are still running madly, and urgently postponing lasting sobriety until January. - You can be happy! Your family house upstairs is already being built, a graceful Danube estuary is your neighbor, and you are greeted by the untamed wilderness as a familiar brother! The hardest task is to focus on your carefully arranged life with a sober judgment!

Teaching children to ponder thoughtfully, the uplifting thoughts of missed happiness! A man with a tangled life knows - he knows, and even now he often thinks about you, he feels with you. Your child, if you ask about a lot of romantic dates, you just tell me you were someone deeper someone, more mysterious.
Even more vulnerable in your child's spirit! "I can't tell the truth to anyone right now, but I'll give it to you."

An intoxicating fluttering imagination is growing; intoxicating imagination associates constant thinking with wandering shadows in my mind! My shackled dreams continue to drop my pillow body close to the ground, and inside, a small child-deep despair sharpens his cunning dentures! My measured Time is dwindling sooner and I can already feel that nothing could have happened in vain, the confrontational, hyenic world continues to make a killer joke with me, because I was always forced to listen to his words naively-gullibly!
 
The reward of my shipwrecked destiny is to wear out the gears of fortune once and for all, and I may not have a chance to evolve towards happiness that will never be found again! "Among the shelters of blackened, crumpled, crouching shadows, I would kneel humbly rather than quote the Inquisition again!" I am tormented many times by my horrible fear of my conscious responsibilities that, perhaps, the hoped-for help will be left on purpose, and so anyone will be happy to wade through the prodigal ruins of my vain utility!
 
On the challenged grooves of my face, the infiltrating islands of light also show themselves beneath me; help rarely if they ask! I stand in the crowded space and let the imagination of wobbly balance roll in many times! I would like to address a romantic lady who, with a single glance of the Universe, can restore my being as a Man, and the right to still have hope for a life to continue; I would try to understand the increasingly confusing pop culture tabloid slangs, but I often get tired of the bleeding ulcers of spitting sermons!
 
My wandering memory would rather start and forget about it alone! The ordered, imposed length of my existence is back, it carries on itself!

Your Shadow - if you believe it or not - continues itself, and sooner or later perhaps it will return to itself. The small pulses of conscious mistaken doubts in the music of your fingertips, if the Universe were to play flirtatiously with you. Just believe that there will be a tomorrow when everything is right and everything seems perfect. No cheap, mediocre, small-style insinuations, no series of car scoldings in the traffic jams of the heat wave.

Faithful and true love does not need to be raised as an altar gift from the Darius treasures of palaces on duck legs. The ****** features of simple understanding should be universally, necessarily strived for; with a stubborn, compromising, quiet English farewell - perhaps - you are worth nothing if you do not say what really lies in your heart and soul.

One day you will understand, as an old greyhound, that memory and magic constantly echo within you; the secret Apocryphal order of complex things that have happened and can happen, which only you can safely decipher. On the floating threshold of immobility, like in the pearly foam of the seas, it is as if gravity ceases if you meet those who could rightfully like and love you. The wounded heart preserves fragmented wingbeats, and it would be so good if the Beloved knocked on your door three times.

The scars that change without concepts still remain with you, because somehow you would have to remember them a little; the promises that smell of handshakes towards the future run away in your hands, a little just like the vain flirting intentions of promised help or amorous fluttering of eyelashes. One day, before you know it, you'll be saying goodbye to your sure return!

Ordinary space carries you out and rushes away from everyday worries! In his distressed anxieties, the redeeming peace can hardly be persuaded by others who hear the consolation that passes through the night-broken dreams: "There will be nothing wrong!" "He looks like a hesitant little child who confesses sin in us!" Messianic hopes have been replaced by extravagances! An active human mind is playing with trickling pieces of thought, while your new plans are sure to be born!
 
In the depths of instinct, the love of the Universe and the joys of appearances were once being prepared to create new degrees of hope with our common will! We rushed through the superficiality of our modern age with a driven soul; secretly, superstitious eyes don't even miss the precious minutes, when the heart and the taste of the universe-cherishing kisses are pounding to a beat?! A terrible, prickly fog is raging in us! - Choking parallels, bitter anxieties do not spare the cage-silence either; silent sore wait anxious out of ghost eyes!
 
Stars little joy how to staple the secrets of the eyes?! As a roar of steps, the troubled Spirit first knocks and then echoes as a footprint of hearts! You digest your members yourself! It is no longer possible to start with cheap promises conceived in the filth of times! A runaway memory seems to never want to remember enough again - it immerses itself in the lake of Léthe-forgetting rivers! Throbbing anticipation of hope-gold is ringing in vain all in vain!
 
On the extinct platform of dead tracks, the rusty assembly of hope is wasting

Bricks, building materials, have become lacking from the empty chasms of time; the Apocryphal thought symbol, thought solid for millennia - perhaps - has been permanently erased, swept under the rug, so that there would be no need to think or ask questions. Once upon a time, the essential things to say were engraved on baked clay tablets, which nothing could destroy: neither time nor memory. Now, halfway to this nameless, belittling Babylon, among the squirming linguistic confusions of Babels, they are less and less willing to even ask each other: Well, tell me!

What did you spend on palaces spinning on duck legs and monthly salaries of millions?! In a hundred-foot columned solitude, Simeon also blinked at the wide world spread out before his feet; sees and perhaps is not even very surprised if brother sells brother, thief sells thief, since there has long been no honor in outlaw honor.

All petty, ***** fake deals that have ever been made in the name of man, even by great powers made arrogant, are a crushing hesitation, a turning around; the halter of shaken everyday habits pulls its victims back and forth. They can hardly understand the shell-suffering that sprouts between the petals of the soul, because other - apparently - more important things also enjoy pure priority, because the sinking combined with the sure fall, which the treadle of everyday life itself gives birth to a slow turn.

It would be even better if the average person did not necessarily have to hate himself in the cheap-tinny calvary of everyday life - but at least he could lift himself up from the muddy swamps of the yellow earth with will and conviction. The outside world can now be less and less a true home-shelter, at most only a temporary refugee camp, where many people-crowds seemingly rest, and then even the patient but passing guest picks up their tent poles and moves on, driven by the forced prosperity of their inner homesickness and their Odyssey.

the uncertain Future lies tensed in the rock cavity of Beating Hearts! In the throbbing supplications of petals, the Universe would be resurrected; Witnesses who adhered to the wounded human law were accepted as witnesses: Empathy for the unusual too! The merit of the computing community now is the privilege ?! When can they find treasure among the sobbing True Beads, if they have already hurt themselves in humility ?!
 
Many times, the open mouth of everyday Being shores and gorges vibrates like a stretched rope, trembling: maybe he dreams of a cheap, worn-out knife, he easily cuts off his deep thread of life! Witnesses have long guessed: they’re not digging up the bumpy grave where they originally put it! - Insidious fools and syrups dressed in syrup are often just getting infected!
 
In the darkness of the chamber, in the whirlwind of fluttering whispering nests, I want to cling to expensive smiles with a light-smelling scent, and I couldn't hope to lose everything in vain even between cobweb listening! - Among the particularly groping blind spots of obscure shapes, I could offer my tufted hand to someone more boldly: grasp and guide you through the trials of this earthly Being with Giving Love!
 
You could also take back the vacant, eternal Child in the adult man while the concrete wall of secrets between the two of us would disappear unnoticed! Should I lie to his golden heart like an orphan and listen to the melody of doubled echo sounds to my liking what kind of songbird sighs can dissolve?

Insignificant details in the buzzing pace of Being: orphaned, late-sunflower yellow hair trembles in the wind, always turning to face the Sun like one preparing for an unfinished showdown! Withered petals die when dried barren, yet keep your head raised! You no longer intentionally forced overbearing, haughty contempt! Whoever offended should live only, but alone: separately! My rage time often puts me in the right place when I’m just trying! Meaningless, yet logical determination lives on; my inner biology, like a timed clockwork, clicks frantically instead of me!
 
The cannibal appetite of worlds is fattened again and again by a destructive instinct of greed! Unnoticed, prolonged trust also befriends themselves for a long time; he is determined to show himself to benefactors! The lush-lying butterfly-dance of superstitious-eyes cannot heal insidious worm-chewed wounds! "I would like to turn my back on all the evils that can be done so that I can only remember the Beautiful!"
 
No matter how humiliating I had to accept: an insidious, lake-wide world would wash my solidified brain if I left! - The world-beautiful beauty of the seedless in the scorching sun cannot produce laurels in this superficial existence! Starting with a shower of tears, wailing sounds like every futile call for help! On the threshold of merciful defeat, the blood-wound of dawn erupts again; forgot to turn off the leather hose tap! Jealous demand tops even filled with Man's misunderstanding! Angels with redemptive fear already hold their terrible glorias.

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!

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.

Whispering a dagger of danger in a hundred figures a day is raised to me by my snarling Present! I run out of rails for suicides under my feet; clicking heartbeats scratched my face ditches! The station of retired inheritance cannot wait for me! It would be good to engrave the conscious, submissive formulas of my fears in the exile walls of minutes, and with the jumping Time, it is as if the Hope is stumbling into a vacuum and sooner or later Hope will escape! A tiny network of cells strikes each other every second; locked in a stubborn prison of my fateful state, my chances of stopping are dwindling!
 
I consciously measure my significant statistical life! I’m going to be in self-danger escapes instead of the Beloved one I have to cling to! A clicking, wild rumble rips through the cell wall of my eardrum, echoing the judgmental word of my pounding heart! - In crazy, imagined reality-show worlds, consciously thinking intellect is thrown out useless! My discouragement can only be overwritten by a pair of walnut-brown Gioconda eyes; if the enduring, angelic miracle could still be rocked around balmy moonlight romances! I have an apocalyptic rejection of the trembling of my little boy, my limb; the shackled agony is numb!
 
Today, humanity pays attention to appearances and sensations! Uncut diamonds are rarely discovered from the ancient roar of shining, reflector-buzzing: misconceptions, glittering pleasures of tinsel reign over easy-to-buy, cheap souls that vulnerable people have nothing to do with.

Il-advised and outcastly, I still dared to hope: In the sublime consciousness of the planned happiness! It was only now that I realized that with its melted blood clumps, Hope itself had begun to wane! I whispered with idiotic love. I want to live with you, and together because you are very important to me!

In the immortal chain of existence, the connecting, fertile gem was yourself and your character! The fate of our destiny, the will to keep it, has certainly deprived me of every foot of my will. What kind of unrecognizable, unknown fear and conscious Horror squeezes the purple dungeons of my heart, in which only the dying patches of coparians now light up?

An emotion that can be increased to vanity, thought to be destroyed, cannot be destroyed, because the eternal flame of love nourishes, fuels and trains the consciousness awakening in biological instincts.

The ghost domain of the brain is received and captured by the catacombs of the nervous system with the message of kisses: The feeling of transcendence is that it is all about us unselfishly! In his son, who is still indefinite and may not be able to take the initiative, we can easily discover with conscious discipline we are searching and snooping: an individual who protects the bastions of morals and is vulnerable to the rich repositories of his character!

- Sometimes the contagion of diseases ruptures as a purulent ulcer. It is a pessimistic contagion of self-pity, and this is involuntary not only to repel, but increasingly to forge the insurmountable and pure-hearted laws of the relationship swaying in the rope dance!

And in that crossfire of disarming moments, all the superfluous, debris words are no longer valid: Two human stars are facing each other deeply, yet understandingly wolf-eyed at the center of humanist understanding!

The world is rocking in a web of indifference and phlegm! He jerks at the disliked Celeb zombies; you would think jerking your solid mind as a spear! Your secrets that you have survived to Man would gladly destroy you — your fisheye examining in chilled loneliness — yet you can't pierce! Indifference sprinkles him on fame with a sizable forgetfulness! Excess collagen showcases bounce off the plaster from silicone-glued kittens like scales; why is it appealing, however, that many of them do not notice the Essence during the external cicoma? Rather, it strangles this foolish-walked world with man’s son’s idiocy with the intention of burying crops!
 
Yet on the wall of absurd stupidity the Mind bangs; the thought often revolves around like a ******* like a deceived drug! Play with everyone in the insidious Indifference! The heart of being is tormented by a wormy monster and the wounded Golgotha would already laugh at the torment to see his fate with pity! - A postmodern generation is chewing on fluffy pies! - Lambs born today, with their free gym passes, are rushing to Goddess laurels while the wisdom of the understanding and the power of the beating heart is lazy in their heads!
 
They fall into ecstasy at the sight of the very first kneaded gorilla: slackness and a shattering career desire are already wading through everyone he reaches! Torturous lusters scramble to scratch each other's cheeks! And with Lucer's red ****-clicking whips echoing the devastating evil! "Only the Thinkers are awake in the draft at the bottom of the potholes!"

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.

Is there anything moving in the redemptive descent? Discover the exfoliated tears on the retinal lines of broken eyes with compassionate regret! As the smaller beetles glide apart, a hesitant giant-foot tramples on them by chance! The given, idyllic anthill can hardly receive regular travelers and contemplatives back into its bustling community! In the gaping lap of depths - only they can know - undivided Dreams graze!
 
The blood-boiling instinct-greed of visceral possession is only the exception! - From the micro-world below, where can murderous virtue be measured by certain methods? - The chattering company of loosely swinging golden boys and chirping kittens has never seduced; there, many people blamed emotional ammunition for luring exploited defenseless people and believing! Are the reports left to themselves simply because Someone always betrays them with words?
 
Deliberate yawns in deep dark gaps, however, cannot dissolve; the redemptive gaze of self-forgotten serenities can no longer be forced on the other! Greed became an indestructible umbilical cord: as many gains as possible in the jingling pockets of compromisers; but even the only comedians of Judas who are now giving themselves up are all sneezing or lurking! Secret doors open to everyone, only the secrets can be kept by the Spirit alone!
 
Is it too much to envy overstretched reciprocity? You’re forced to wear the shower spikes of mutual compromises on purpose if you want something more out of life!

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!

Through the eyes, like explorer-blind gaps, roaring bulldog pupils are set on a cloak! Gravity balance is pulled up daily and then shatters immediately! The orphaned, cowardly child can only become a human being with great difficulty; the offensive darkness is groaning within me, constantly asking for food of greedy fear! Innocent scratch if I could just be on the Life palette! All over Earth I could really sobbing while my voice was deafening! I inherited the guilty face of the perpetrators and fled in vain from the selfish radar of the murderers!
 
My days are dwindling like a swaying black spot and I don't know: Will I be next?! My shadow that wants to make friends shakes every day and measures my goodness! Maybe I hunted in vain for the happiness I deserved and researched! Clicking minutes of time wheels; perilous series of trials and tribulations - they could have been just happy assassinations! Will a vigilant watcher be left out of the whirlpool of my whispering brain who could unravel my confidential secrets? Every lone star injects nutritious, concentrated compressed material from itself! I exist as a single, cruel crack: it is already being digested by villages!
 
In my difficult lessons, I would have to harness my karakan courage on my own to learn to stand up with my head held high for things to happen! In my years squeezed into rings of the year, exotic beauties held blind mirrors in front of themselves, and they couldn't see it either, because their jingling, fake canary hearts were dizzy with longing materiality! None of the donkey ladders of radiant happiness had anything to do with it! I am already hanging from my chubby head on a self-torture, like a replaceable pumpkin head, and I would be waiting for One-Love, who will provide a safe haven

This present, gloomy, wretched Time rattles its iron keys; many seven-locked doors creak so that later they will finally close, because now even those who could once have been prophets or small-time heralds are sinking into the tower of silence. The materialistic spirit of the given era is driving more and more people into an unhappiness dubbed permanent. Because now there is only one law: to squeeze profit even from the poorest stratum.

The barriers have also been soaked in us, which we built primarily so that even those who once professed with loyalty: I love you, could not get to know us well. Your sleeping enemies are hovering around you, like the giggling hyena hordes, with whom you can no longer do anything, because they reappear again and again in the fabric of your life; Life, which does not wait to swim or frolic, sends you messages with reckless, lazy thrusts - but twists your full, barely attainable possibilities.

Everyone can only pretend to have this great hypocritical happiness, which has become the sole right and privilege of the minute-man on the outskirts of the tabloid media. The present is now increasingly vulture-like. It always gnaws at its prey bones and greasy slobbers at the expense of others. Hypocrites in robes increasingly submit to some difficult-to-understand rule, which others have imposed on their heads; after all, sluggish ignorance is perhaps still better than the weighty Sisyphusian knowledge.

We are also deceived by the curse of everyday life, by the sack of evil, from which penny-worth of good deeds rarely rattle or fall, and the truth grafted into honesty, which is spoken by mouths and lips but rarely understood, is an increasingly bitter, rotting fruit. Even reason is witnessing falsified eras, because the objective sources have all been lost or destroyed. Even the cold Reality is becoming more and more malleable, more flammable.

The morning, light summer breeze, as if it were already breaking the rope of our executioner; dark worries and troubles are entering everyday life, now driving stealthy, talkative conditions here and there, until they can only fit on their roaring throats. As if the scarecrows were voluntarily sitting on each other's backs, impaled. As if everyone's eyes and mouths had been sewn shut with the weights of padlocks, just so that they wouldn't have to protest or rebel.

- A deliberately thickened powder plaster spreads over the models' faces, but who can see their real, hidden faces?! It would be better to turn two truthful mirrors to face each other, to see who is lying and who is still telling the appearance-truth. As if the yellowed copy were already rolling itself backwards out of habit; how we should have become when we were still full of world-saving dreams and childish plans, our ever-increasing debts to others, so we ***** ourselves.

As if we should deliberately celebrate our conscious inadequacy. We are quite stuck in this already viscerally self-depriving robber Age, from which there is no way out; because mortals may still suspect that waiting is in every respect only the privilege and virtue of the dead, they have put together so many hackneyed, futile farewell sentences. The celestial stars dreaming of happiness hidden in superstitious eyes are carrying out a celestial degradation.

Wherever the simple average person turns, the excrement and ***** smell that spreads in the old sink of the Universe greets him, and the walled-in, meager poverty-stricken pension awaits him deep in mailboxes, which is not enough for anything, at most only for starvation. The only time your shaving day will end is if the Gillette blade accidentally cuts you off and hits an orphaned artery!

One day, one will not even notice, and from one's buildable failures and somersaults, a few improvised houses of cards will collapse cheerfully in no time; one day, not only the petty, mischievous baby-tooth premiums, which it would have been good to give to every employee at least towards the end of the year, but also the regular pensions, whose basic value does not change, only their transparency and value are continuously decreasing, will start to leak through every crack.

Because they do not always say what the intentions of the ratings are, let alone keep the individual, the average individual, who cannot know anything about anything, completely calmly under the devilish veil of permanent uncertainty, since reason is already increasingly discouraged and disillusioned and hanging its dream-intoxicated head.

It can be hard to admit that Life is often like a group of crooks and fake card players cheating each other at the same time, because there has long been no honor for thieves, while the stock market speculation on the World Wide Web watches with superior, condescending indifference the pitiful slug-fight, which is usually produced by some social community even several times a day.

They walk around with indifferent Janusz poker faces and, if they like, even wander around a usable industrial or garbage hill, where even cockerels are used to scratching around, hoping to find priceless treasures in the mud. - Thinking a little more carefully, it is only possible to distribute truly essential and extremely important things to say and announcements in a veiled, dosed manner, mainly to those who can afford to pay more for them!

They are not going up the stigma-gradient - they are more like molehills, getting trapped in pitiful holes, going down, just as the standard of living is starting to sink more and more every day and is amortizing itself!

Washed, pathetic molds are definitely washed cleanly jerkwater utility principle: the syrupy-luxury survival-desire for prosperity! They would try to furnish a second welfare state at their own risk: their market considerations are being recorded at the expense of their profitable greed! Their terrible engine of money and testosterone has taken them again?! Sudden upheaval has become every motive, and a believing promise is every ready-made move! They would not require silly, brain-shrinking, dull consciousness; smooth crawlers softened body of the peak! Turbocharged worms preach self-realization. It used to be a ruin when business partners arm is shackled!
 
In Saturday's willingness, nudely balances geometry as a pendulum with a superstitious, panther-body, **** hipster, and as a new stranger, he tenses himself like a bow-nerve at any time! With increasing libido, it is no longer certain that many people know what to do! *****-heated rags The John have already consecrated all the Czechs, on new rumbling parquets they start the cocoons of raging rhythms! The tricky coffee-fairy-blue glances can hardly be worn by those who are still hoping and seeking true Love! - Gluttonous V.I.P.- sparkling strains stretch their octopus claws! It was given to only a few so that they could be enlightened before the precipice slopes! Little virgins dressed in paws dress themselves in public!
 
You know, they can only achieve something if they can gain an instant royalty-free reputation with any cheap, **** tools, even risking their lasting protection here! "It's because of my brothers' wall that it's never possible to get out again!" Weekend bustling ****** are all already going into the sinks! Where could the romantic beauties stay?! If someone notices a leak, it’s better not to joke with it!