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!

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.

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!

Shattered amulets of long-gone memory loves are phosphorescent on a flickering blind; I struggle with the eternal child-soul at night! My excited memory makes fun of me every day, as if I were out of time and the shadows of the past settled on my soul with legal continuity! - In itself, the cosmic Deficiency yawns as much as the depth in the craters! Superstitious pleasure superstitious in the cells of molecules also escapes by shattering the throbbing existence of bleeding stones!
 
I hide with petty dwarf sadness for moments when the piece In time, perhaps, the interdependence of loneliness and the proud compulsion of loneliness could be solved by the Force of Being! Insecure as a useless burden, Life carries with it! A radiant, dark twilight looms over the best of my cursed humanity; the compulsion of indifference and yet conscious resistance argues and kills itself in me!
 
The expropriated profit-making of prostituted, money-seeking egos is driven by a cleverly calculating lustful gaze! And in the kissing flood of multiplied, exotic butterflies, he carries the winking pride along the life-miserable, detectable differences, who is a more artistic merchant in his desires and feelings! With the consciousness of mercenary, the Man, with his empty instincts, forced into his greedy existence, is still more and more misled, so that he can finally descend into inhumanity! "Above me, as you may already know, the warrior, the caller, the pallos-right, the ordered Destiny strikes the homestead like tiny, small pebbles rumbling in words, waiting for the protection and forgiveness of the Beloved!"

Who would have thought that even within a few decades, pop and celebrity culture infected with postmodernity could be so resonant, calculating, and pathetic?! It's like some kind of anchored, stupid social pyramid game, Phalanx theories that produce mass people want to prevail by tripping each other up, and just like Orwell's 2+2 can rarely be 4. Average people, even ******* animals, prefer to deliberately wipe the soles of their shoes on each other, just so they don't have to help the other, even a little.

Air transport routes are only available to charter flights of the nouveau riche, since there is hardly any scurrying or customs inspection. Existence - like it or not - is becoming increasingly unstable, while everything else is doomed and contingent. They are constantly changing places, especially on the front of syrupy, false tabloid media, and more and more people are deliberately trying to position themselves, if they still can, of course. Words that falsify the edge of Being are already breaking down; because the light-pulsation of hearts is perhaps not sure to truly show itself even in the idyllic dawn of romanticism.

It would be good if the simple average person would regularly observe the sacred curvature of his life, with its swinging weight, in which he was born long ago, and in which he has learned to thrive - as he does - out of necessity. Without a net, on just one rope, it is necessary to move forward one step at a time, hopefully towards the West rather than the East. In a tense soul, even solid calm is increasingly flammable.

It would often be easier, like blind Theiresias, to decipher, by scribbling on Braille paper, what the truer sincerity of the inner Soul hides in secret, encrypted. Why is it necessary nowadays to ***** more and more, even for the impossible; the nimbus of our understanding, logical intellect can surely be trapped in labyrinthine traps? It would be much better to approach the uncertain fate simply as a "tabula rasa" than as a good friend, because a trust-based relationship - no matter how much we might want it - rarely results from petty, petty conflicts.

What would have happened if Adam and Eve had decided to ignore the flattering, honey-glazed speeches of the serpent and had finally remained in the paradise conditions of the Garden of Eden, which proclaimed harmony?! - It may now seem increasingly that many unnecessary factors and solid data are continuously obstructing the communication channel that leads to understanding and actual compromise; instead of discovered loopholes and obligatory gibberish, it would have been better if they had embarked on the path of convincing compromise, and not hopelessly running after apparent possibilities offered on trays.

The world now looks like a lonely, unstable, volatile volcano ready to erupt. above; our quickly cleaned shame stains remain just like that even after the lyeing or hippoing nicknamed permanent. It seems that the dog no longer even thinks about the early fading Future; the mere will and humility have become a rusting mill wheel, with which the mass-people of changing Ages dig the pits of their selfish graves. Who could want – only in their own way – to listen with understanding ears to the testimony of inner, bursting wounds?! In deliberately deaf Ages, a nuclearly calculated mushroom cloud produces defenseless victims!

Ignoring the idiocy and the elementary human interest is always inevitable many times fatal! A series of brilliantly tragic coincidences can ever question individual children who are still thinking, while too many of the world are lost without end! A rush of creative ingenuity is hiding in everyone, and every idea and plan is already in the smoke when less and less of the diligent chain of different relationships can be chosen!

In the century of the information cyber revolution, the conscious, lazy craze is just as visible and actionable! A wide variety of attractions and décolleté is always taken by the curious camera: The retouched blurring of essential eye paint is rarely seen by anyone; the question to be decided is: what has changed ?! - The roaring melody of the horns barking into our faces, announcing that something has happened to the city and its people! "Nothing's fine!" - basic feeling!

It was as if everything and everyone had turned into empty shells; sinking under you, just like our disposable, stinking waste!

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.

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?!

As a broken blow to couch silent; vile powers change hands as lingerie; the self-rescue movement fell voluntarily, the Infinite long ago destroyed! Something took hold of the selfish Souls and split! Bone-white, the faithful blinds stumble into the uncertain future! History re-sells itself with **** faith and serves everyone else instead of self-esteem! The Angels' redemption wings weigh heavily into sticky mud, for they are full of Twilight wounds at the base of their backs; in cages, puppies are devoured by bargained jackals - and there is no way out!
 
One-way streets are designated as intentional dead ends to make a possible career impossible from others! The little ******* chirping cute mini-lives are bustling yet because they can’t mouse paths to dance wobbly! The researcher, the vigilant moon, also became a blind man; he can only sit lame and motionless contemplating! In the Cosmos captivity of loneliness, only howling dogs can hear their judgment! The Seer fantasizes about dreams that have fallen into a well! And the thirsty one still follows dreams!
 
Judgment is constantly foaming at the contemptuous mouth of intestinal lepers because they cannot accept the changing differences! Worms are also raised in their selfish mirrors by exotic Beauties; today the World itself is tearing apart the threads that can bind Man-Man! Goodness can soon escape from ourselves and only the killer tuna selfishness remains! "Neither can people with spiked-mouths really be the ones to show themselves: there is a desperate maze of labyrinths on indulgent Faces."

When somewhere, sometime, we think that the nature of our messy, confused things should be put in order, then all purposeful investments start to falter; greedy, snarling swarms of locusts would tear each other apart even further, because they no longer want to know the nature of the satisfied boundaries.

The World pours into us in rays from everywhere, which increasingly sets the consumer society as the only possible goal, while placing material well-being on the sole pedestal. But how much longer?! Every shell of loneliness is already fragmenting, since man cannot even trust himself, let alone others.

Even sweaty humanity already exists only in torn, fraying rags, or at most only if they can still pay for it. An invisible digital hand is pulling the current generation of cyber-donkeys on their pullable umbilical cords, who perhaps can no longer think in the long term, realistically, because a given phalanstery, mechanized intelligence, does it for them.

It is somewhat characteristic of all of us that we now deliberately disregard even the generally predictable laws of physics, just to get ahead with dignity and urgent immediacy; it could be a totally clogged traffic jam, where most drivers can drive to their heart's content, or a ten-hour professional, deadly conference, where most slave-riding boss-sharks only demand things for themselves. And the university is no longer about what it used to be, when fire-breathing prophets were used in common cultural matters to shake up an entire community.

It now seems more and more like everyone has made deals and contracts for their own benefit, and they have really made a deal!

My Spoken snap clock struck my heartbeat! I should pull it up until dawn tomorrow! It would be good to hand over his clicking harassment to Someone who feels deeply with me that he exists; he keeps his waking breaths for me! It was as if the sun were rising like a bright honeymoon for us - the glowing Universe had sweated true pearls on us! Simultaneously divided in our molecules from the pound of blood-flesh Love!
 
I fall asleep now as if he were always with me and wrapped up with his angel wings when I was awakened by the disappointed minute that called for my new things! "Every missed vanity grinds a pounding throbbing in my heart: my nectar blood rushing sharply up like a knife whips it up like the ticking of Death in people!" Final countdown started with birth! Hesitant with poppies, dodderer uncertain revolving among you!
 
If I Dare to Do and Confess the Curse of the Present: I am a Coward and a Selfish if I am always worried! I could be a bolder and more reckless lion tamer; I'm afraid many people will just forget that I don't have to speak to me unnecessarily anymore: and the rule of Doom will whisper and ruin my initial career as a whispering, calculating drunkard! "Iron-barked diamond stars, with their celestial tears, ruin the sky glorious in the dark darkness!"
 
I've looked apart! In whom could I find the second half of my existence? My choice was shot and failed! I have given the treasures of my heart sincerely through anxiety and confidential Faithfulness! Instead of friends, the weedy, flattening Betrayal has settled into my everyday life!

Snorels trapped in a serpent's stake demonstrate and swear by a large vest; fewer and fewer than those who still have personal rights to light garbage cans and get into public Bachan ****** with *******-virgins is illegal! Every beautiful word, artificial beauty, sounds jerky between compressed gorilla lips! My flesh splits in two and my bald hair sparks fire and sparks on the insults of romance!
 
All my slips are deliberately running out, and I have to cry every minute of my martyrdom until my tongue gains again, judgmental prophecy! In fertile rebellions, it is no longer possible to know exactly which side you are standing on! - Even among enthusiastic cloakers, the lousy slat can vibrate from amateur caresses! "Between the rows between the railings, wild beasts can go to their troughs!" Honest handshakes also turn into pathetic question marks!
 
And everyone has become so suspicious that more and more people are starting to portray themselves from the nicely ringing genre places of their careers! Who already suffers from a single disease, an old girl?! And do small people strengthen the camp of albinos or enthusiastic dwarves? Muscle-core, self-kneading among Hercules and Atalanta, how can the compulsion to comply with exaggeration remain healthy?! - Everything among the chemically abracadabra of shameless null-calories, paleo-diets is already screaming and anxiety; a calvary of deliberately wounded souls turned back into deep layers!
 
They can't feel good in their skin because they flashed a **** bikini figure, and an unpleasant cellulite was also sacrificed - those who know the nimbus of perfection as manic obsessives deliberately suffer a paralyzing spell.

An aggressive world crowded with noise! We can listen to less and less soul-lifting, cheerful harmony! The everyday throbbing heartbeat of our existence also continues to knock purposefully! In our handshakes, a false, lazy consolation message, our human reality is often destroyed in our search for truth, tuned with faith! We will have a greedy urge to own us; from the yelling, threatening throats soon killer blade loud! - A cry of silence is barely audible, silent in the distance!
 
In the same way, the identity consciousness of our selfish defiance era is shattered by the non-merciful poultry ****! - The promised Hope that it is and will make sense to persevere to the final limits with raised, stubborn heads is also more and more delayed! - In a crumpled self-doubt, how long can the selfish confrontation of the accountable Being last ?! Deliberately doubts everything from Reality dreams! A familiar, loving hand leans gently on the caress on the unbreakable wall of the expander, and he leads and encourages us with encouragement!
 
We are already capable of anything for small-scale recognitions! If necessary: let's tread, wade, and skip intentionally set barriers to Life so that only our egos can develop freely! In masks or exaggerated make-up concrete, we dare to look into the all-seeing eyes of others because we dread the awareness that our telltale gaze may unravel at any time unconcerned! - Trapped in desires and renunciations, our calculated lies benefit and we distort our own distorted souls in the hope of success!
 
Among the needs, the curse of superficial prosperity already promises everyone! Because of your role-playing, you are already afraid to look wolfishly at yourself in the secrets of crooked mirrors! This is how your self-defense is fulfilled!

Whoever you may have been in the shackles of your past, now you are wandering aimlessly, pouring in the apostate hours of the day: What you thought was certain to be kept, and what you thought was easily escaping your punching hand these days! - You don't need more desire to prove: In the process, your former merry allies emerge: In joy and sorrow, your girlfriends, friends, colleagues - did not exist here on this earth! There is also a thirty-year sketch of your body as a question of why and how: Your everyday tried and worn nerves are strained through strings.

the matured and lying lie-off peace of suffering, emotions. Whoever you were as a rabbi of your past, now the Present scatters and shares your tried memories: Everyday proofs! For a long time you were hesitant, half-hearted, speechless, struggling with conscious silence: It would have been nice to call secrets with open-hearted, sincere-minded people - only for the One, True word!

Afraid, I have all left the shores of peace. Once again, I should start to stubbornly and proudly resurrect with elevated consciousness and faith - while I can and can: Beauty will be in the constant, mortal cycle as well: The redeemable mortality of Existence, your little one!

Now you are still carrying yourself deep in yourself, your thoughtful and imagined fall, because you have never let go and let the trembling little people fall asleep embedded in the depths of your heart to crawling, soul-seeing eyes!

Your unruly confidence, your unbroken confidence in the immortality of letters, is now still the object of ridicule: Standing alone, standing alone! - Whoever you were behind your little boy's mask: In the outbursts of rage of natural elements who want to rage, demand and so proclaim the moral Humanity,

"You can be sure once again, if you believe in him, an uncarved world-thrown, hermit of the mountains." The Redeeming Peace is making its way more and more urgently in you

When the shore tear between the two of us was completed: An important, small piece of the heart was broken with a huge sparkle and delicate strings: disappeared! - The internal organs that kept the weight of your true pearl tears, the transforming heaven of your happiness in you with the gaping depths of caves, are now offended as looters

with the words of silent bells they keep sobbing and do not understand: How could you let go, without the hope of a joyful reunion, the One, the True ?! A wounded tear burst out again and dripped its way like a soundless yet talkative glass ball, mercifully on the crater solitude of your ash face. "I was the first to lose my dear: You have left for a limited, perfectly sterile world, and a well-deserved marriage may have flourished in your heart forever!" Slowly, deliberately, the Secrets have legitimized in my heart: You may love me even more than anything, but inside, where something was swollen and tense at your gaze, now only the gaping, perforated like craters Nothing yawns!

And finally, you can see yourself filled with happiness; smuggling the belief that your heart might be fuller could be better than chasing the destroyed emptiness of your brave words endlessly! "I would ask you, your blessed hand, to take the pledges of my truths, the promises of my kisses, as a pledge," and I will take care of you on every doomed day of my life as before.

Like a pounding wasp - a hubbub of hate is nestled in the apathetic heart of people! Too many people have listened to the siege of preaching sermons, which have begun to grow into obscurity! Hyena-******, black-skinned tenants and muscle-meat-**** ******! Starling clouds roar in a desperate mess in the dying Presence! Even those who initially proclaimed unity and demanded accountability at all levels are contemplating endless retaliation; both the accomplice and the jackal-speaking siheder will forget their intentional actions!

Like the drunk who whipped the whiskey s tequilla butters bottles dropping his brown stools into the phone booths - we're moving into the gaping Theiresian Gorge! Their human dignity is being replaced by people all at once! They have crunchy bones of stripped human flesh; will become dust as a witness only! It might be worth all the empathetic-tolerant thoughts to finally work with One Will! The male pillar and the silk-boy businessman lay down in a sneaky handshake!

All hateful Satan's eyes are eternal: the future should change! - In a place like cowards, unable to compromise, we are still touring in the heart of old Europe for many, many years! There was only a momentary, airborne rescue idea left: dressing in circus binoculars with holey, rolling promises would have to be done because the loss should always be beautified!

A soul-seeing series of stifling silence, sacred romance, beautification, sincere compliments, chivalrous kindness - when someone knelt down, because their heart-oath was obliged to do so and because that would be dictated by etiquette! It would be good to remember everything then and humbly wolf-eye the motherland again! Why do we feel a flow that wounded, earthly lights can become transient in us?! Our life-confession that we have left to people every day may wipe out all sins!
 
It is rare for a person from his past to stray back into a hesitant present! Our talkative silence always has a severed neck! Today, they make favors of pseudo-messiahs, and they don't even know for themselves whether the greedy career desire will squeeze out more favors from them? - It's a shame to shiver and sigh for secret sound, suggestive, noticeable noises! The noise of squeezed heart sounds should be deciphered in ecstasy squirrels, strokes that can be snapped out as strings! Cheering, aggravated oppression echoes in silence while its festive culture settles on me!
 
Arbitrary, **** phlegmas endlessly step into the mud! In the soft sigh of Fugitive Twilight, a drunken, honey-like moment of Eden trembled: swan-tender ducks cherished their heart-loving hearts with their velvet caresses! Our dreams were puffed up with superstitious desires by the longing vibrations of the Universe! Immortal desires in our cell-deep loneliness were carefully concealed by our heart-cups!
 
The only scientists of the secrets of passion-sighs trembling through the ladik of the mammoths; memorable Wings of weightless imagination from time to time captivate the living! “Leave your shattering, raven-black locks free, while your superstitious broomsticks tremble at the tastes of the Universe

Useless, depressing summers suddenly become nothing, and like a balloon they burst; it is better to deliberately avoid irritable people, even if one risks the open Gandhian freedom from conflict, since it is always the same ones who do the sensational mischief for the world. A party queen of mimicry and hysteria, racing on endless petty steps, who even replaces the so-called dead night around her at will.

The world of sincere human feelings has begun to decay. The "how much I love you!" "I only need you, because with you I can still be myself" - phrases that were so good to listen to back then in the moments of the beginning love intoxication, because the first happier meeting was swallowed up by some unknown, strange, strange crack, a gaping hole, as if someone had smuggled a gluttonous Discontinuity between the beating hearts.

Nowadays, not even the dog is very curious about our half-sentences that have been nervous for decades, hesitantly mumbled, because everything has become superficial, negotiated, breakable contracts, which are followed by a new one that can be manipulated and challenged.

- The two mirror faces are paralyzed into identical grimaces, because deep down they already know that they have lost because their unconditional love and selfless trust have been shattered. The boredom of romantic desires often bores me precisely because of this, because the other party is also increasingly suspicious.

Like some cursed, black widow A fierce malaise surrounds a person everywhere, if he stumbles upon superficial, meaningless promises and statements; he drowns in forced, hemorrhoid-causing laughter, which should have happened so that he could not later return to the prison walls of conscious Lack!

Our neighbor roars at her pampered child again. the gray-knocked prison walls are still crackling and shaking. The constant bombardment of nerve pathways is already unbearable. From the shining saints of the stars to the continents of lanterns and lanterns, the dusty night shines.

The little guy, with a hysterical, demanding mood, searches the wheel tracks of his missing bike like a magic tricycle that can fly him to the sky, but he only finds an aluminum floor worn into yellow parchment, an iron lattice drilled into the islands of panel elements! I would comfort a handkerchief or a pleasantly sour rubber bear so that the lost earth harmony could return again, and blue, red, yellow, green,

delicious little taste-snacks, rolling down your small throat like a huge grab with my tiny hands in my bag! "But what I imagine is that the proud foundations of a possible friendship can be laid," I murmur to myself. "The boy continues to demand hysterically - and more and more, and the neighbor;" an orphaned young woman is still clueless about the more playful issues of upbringing and tolerates child tyranny with gentle Joconda patience!

Now it's still a warm, lukewarm daze.
Dressed in a morgue, getting the gray sky. clouds of cotton candy vented out of themselves the broken drops of their grief. The late-zigzagging injection needle tips of lightning do not split: Although ominous breezes still explode, they secretly pop up here and there.

The unchanging buzz of the end of summer ripens on the branches. Autumn kisses its green scaly fires with its imit-amott flames: their bodies are threatened by the price of digestive fire! Beyond that on the Mountain of Birds rest three balding aggastyan kings: and their mountain ranges are gently and veinily connected like tired and limp muscles on the barren surfaces of their bodies.

Now everything is, can and will be! - It is a happy consciousness of safe satisfaction. I have nothing but my self-conscious hope of forcibly pulling me out of the mud and setting it up: I will - yes - my work and the wolf laws of the world will no longer trample on me, and I will not mortally injure me!

It would have been good to moor in the revived era of existence, and to settle down on a reciprocal lottery run: I accepted Loneliness as an unexpected traveler, a grateful guest, and I do not expect to thank only envious scolding.

on the scraped debris of my infinite days I am still reading the eternal and immortal Truths of the letters! - I'm feeding my food, but with increased hypochondriac diet mania! "In the morning, you just get out of bed with a ball and grumble grimly."

I could only see the morning star again, and in it lost my sweetheart in blunders!

Painted bleeding site leaks real wound! What is now decomposing inside is still visible from the outside and can be recreated! Accurate-minute clicks-conscientious-minute clicks cause-and-loss Measurement of time! Because everyone is getting closer and closer to stretched ropes, which both tightens and tightens them at the same time! Being as a rampant life imprisonment task; its capacity is always doubtful! It's better not to get lost in the guards of generations of *****! Late-read wolf laws can quickly fool a child-naive man into the thousand!
 
The commission tree of pleasures has been deliberately picked! Those who have been quarreling early on can lie and become guest-condemning, insidious monsters when it comes to their selfish careers! With the protection of familiar tentacles, the Truth is also getting harder to probe! Killer-cynical gazes cross-stand increasingly dangerous! Selfishly, they will be Golems who can only keep promising! Dust in the eyes of foolish witnesses! It is difficult to rebuild from indelible blunders! Tensile strength of conditions is not yet safe to withstand everyone!
 
As a pop-up computing spring, it’s still getting harder and straighter! Conflicting cynical ditches in the folds of faces; behind every smile is a carnival at once: that’s why, sooner or later, everyone is stumbling down the alienated side! The dustable human-decency ramparts of the World are still wasting in the depths and cannot break out due to superficial jerks! Their cord-level measure is the only way of life greedy for those who get rich! "The Living is wasting good faith on a shattered, isolated floor, even if we try to make aimless circles!" As a lazy guard, the balloon-Man can quickly puncture

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

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

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

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

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

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

This world, which is guilty of itself, is a total, vast, devil-spasm-ridden world, as if it were squeezing out the disgraced, petty lives of ordinary people; it is littering heaps of filth on every side of the road, while its indifferent, superficial, wild-**** snobbery is gagging at its pleasure, while its brainwashed corruption is becoming wider and wider.

The form of birth, collapse, decay is now deliberately being blown away; one can still hear the interurban voice of the astronaut launched into space for quite some time: the doubled silence is now answering each other incessantly. Some people - one way or another - are constantly observing, eavesdropping, and digitally enslaving the simplified average, for whom the rules would still apply, and therefore can be extended, since the more influential and wealthy fabricate their own self-laws.

Does love, believed to be immortal, also eavesdrop on its own selfish heartbeats for another person, who - perhaps - cannot even really know how and how the other feels?! They demand cheap handshakes offering a bargain, as if this secretly entitles them to anything. - Sooner or later - they don't even notice - they shrink into silent, tiny lumps that can be easily trampled on, or even destroyed definitively.

Halfway towards the deliberately twisted Infinity, incessantly rattling devil's carts are still making deals out of vain calculation. - Even if they wanted to, they could have known for a long time: the iron teeth of Time have withered its members into wasteful souls, stranded in dust. They are the disillusioned prodigals of this present existence with lowered feathers, who deliberately do not want to live as they should, since they have become paralyzed in nervous spasms from what the media splashes in their faces in seconds. Because it is hardly possible for the average person to dignify himself from the arms of conscious, calculating scavengers!

I have always wanted to listen, perhaps, when I listened only under my mother's heart, like a pitifully crouching human fetus, to the oracles that came to me through the channels of the fearful outside world; mysterious holy words, or rather telling, wise words that I did not understand for a long time, because they were covered with the hieroglyphs of reason. Like the closed seven-padlocked gates that first fall on a person, then the painful childhood finally closes; our silent mouths are repeatedly closed by the gnashing of teeth, vain crying and sobbing for nothing, because things have not changed.

In their hearts and souls, shackles and chains are stretched that cannot be cut; The doubting past asks them eternally recurring questions, like a fragment of an indelible memory that has happened, and their requests, whether they bypass the fence or just jump over it, because they regularly put their well-considered answers in the balance pans. From the challenging coincidences - fear - can there never be a completed Fate?!

Because the passage of Time is still unnoticed, silent; the fear of adulthood, adulthood, still lurks secretly in the hearts of most of us; among new paths that have become aimless, it is increasingly difficult to find the one that can mean everything to be able to move on and prosper.

Because a person is often tempted and suffocated by futile waiting. It would be good to redeem the colony of soullessness, so that even those who constantly think of themselves as a pitiful, petty little nobodies can still hope!

Sooner or later, sweating and creaking, he will confess his inner, more feared soul to someone else; perhaps to a possible third party, if he still sees. He will catch a glimpse of himself in the sacred whirl of silently yawning curved mirrors, which show his truer, more authentic face, Wrapped in gauze of promise, like larval pupae we simultaneously chew on morsels, and we mutually reproach each other, because everything and everyone has its turn. Why is it necessary to continue to tolerate the frightened scolding of soul hordes?!

Today, man tolerates and endures his plunderers out of necessity. Perhaps one day he himself will become the atoning guardian angel of his selfish-belittled scoundrels; the false-shell of the appearance that they wanted to celebrate will finally burst, they fall apart, they drown in the anthill-like, fierce jungle-throng, big cities with the smell of Nineveh, rotten space-dirt and indifference-lined wild Lack keeps dancing on the hearts. It breeds on sinister shadows, like some infected big patient, the World is incurable.

It would be better to stop once and for all the unborn promise and grace that smells purely and exclusively of profit and money; instead of flirtatious, romantic purrs, the redeemability of the Universe - now they have consciously forced on the majority that it is necessary to live in a cage between the shallow, desolate walls of Europe; clinging to each other's shoulders, their tiger claws gnaw, and like cannibals they rest on the guts of fat-smelling moxings instead of flesh.

It tempts them regularly under the deep surface splashes; the most trusting feelings and movements seem like pontoon bridges; the howling of tame wolves can be heard in the stench of so many drunken and rebellious pubs, on the deserted alley walls of streets; in every storm and hurricane, like mad sheep, the crazy, brainwashed stupid crowd keeps clapping and it becomes less and less important who is friend and who is enemy! It would be appropriate to measure the unit of measurement of non-existent empathy and tolerance as a humane humanity!

The tiles are all shattered like dubious omens. Ice nuts rattled between broken windows In Budapest, the little child who woke up from their dreams, just like the worrywart, should have cared more about the world; there are fewer and fewer rainbows because it can be great here on earth, it should have cared more about the world.

Clusters of stars tremble on the branches of the evening star, so let's leave the silent tunnels alone, the sacred valleys of our youth, winding return roads, no matter how you hear: you were unhappy, you never dared to count your life destined for eternity. You will look back in time when old age threatens your dove-gray head.

Why don't you ask yourself if you are happy?! because you can easily find out, you would only torment yourself; Man is unable to find what is permanently there, fool, or if you want to chew on your ******* fate, you are biting your nails, you are squirming uselessly. You see, your time is running out. It is time for the fool to be wise and not to say nonsense.

If by chance you want to believe, say that it is self-deception rather and you doubt that there is an even more beautiful road ahead of you, a more beautiful journey, you should listen soberly so that the word turns into stone in you, it would be good to warn yourself sometimes, you were only human. You cannot be to blame for failures, you promised yourself that you would not be a sucker. You felt on your skin that they were making you nothing. Today you still sow somersaults and reap a storm, you grin like a cheeky, rude elbow, because lies can never be comfort and you should not be played with.

In the loneliness of the four walls deliberately fenced, he is unknowingly attracted to a dream: my breath rumbles in and out like a hammering heart rhythm disorder of hero lovers; tiny finely tactile swan hands search the chested jungle hair of their chests, even with the curious diligence of the dear-loving head of the Dear tender lily, he is constantly searching to beat many millirads of diligent, pumping blood molecules pounding for him!
 
We murmur cherishing, little secrets into each other's ears, we call each other even with immortal tenderness! We talk to each other through secret, telepathic channels; our breathing heartbeat, which can be safely guessed from the superstitious music of the gaze-filled flirtation movements, can complement one another! In our love nest, even boredom is evolving, saturated with new content!
 
Gradually, a consciously composed emotion-catharsis spiced with romance is embedded in our flesh: inside and out, we gossip with well-intentioned naturalness like lurking little animals, watching where the other half disguises itself in unearthly sacred beauty! - As a re-created Phoenix miracles, we still rotate in the fertile desires of fertility on the scales and petals of true pearls! We greet each other in each other's immortal radiant eyes!
 
The superstitious sight of sunlight makes our childlike souls, even in our innocence, mature! In this tyrannical, shattering world, we would expect secured redemption from each other so that we could no longer tremble in the yawning, gaping clutches of tomorrow

Now my blunders are multiplying and multiplying! I’ll be more and more half-naked, more and more chatter-stumbling, more awkward! The law of polite etiquette and immeasurable intent to courtship have greatly shackled my remaining life. My persistent caracan for my brave confidence is dwindling! When a man arrives at thirty, he is suddenly shocked only to stagger in a land unknown to him; the uncertain Universe cheerfully surrounds him and can only *****!


I might not even be able to say in words that I will have to count on myself for the rest of my life: The sooner I make the tangible laws of Being learnable, and the easier it will be to protect myself from the dangers of slapping! "One might do better to maintain one's humanism than a crown, a wedge over his head,"

even an umbrella, and a showering curse could hide under hyena and scratching words for sure! “Now every generation of donkeys and young people is just that - that is why the hot-headed generation is irresponsibly and nasty with the belief that it does not responsibly follow confident role models, fictional characters who have been made Himalayan-sized by their conscious commitment to falling.

I don't even have a heart and dare to face the intellect many times, though now it would be easy for me to act on my whispering heart and not have to pay attention to it - with my obsessive persecution mania: in a voice of hope with you,
even for just a moment, I would know just what can stand up to long tolerance, denial, along with emotional hurricanes in the Heart!

To answer your waterfowl lines Sweetheart: I have emptied myself, and as a cone wrapped myself in my self-conscious Sififus jealousy, I know that small-minded Germans demand free, rabid abusers, only gentle, humble hearts. Tearful Owl-Tobias, Little Boy-Molasses Sinking Into Tears

to their liking and cheerfulness I ordered clown figures in my person. "You know, I'm sorry for every moment, fluttering, volcano-flirting that you've been blown away enough by me as a light-hearted princess: comforting prayers and the footsteps of your eternal lovers." Your kind-hearted deer-eyes, ha

of your flesh your being is preserved from immortal loftiness! Because if you cherished the immortal kisses of your eternal soul as a budding, fiery lily of the valley, your sins could be reckoned from death to inhibition: That you called your home the protective trenches of my oak-shoulder, and when you should

and the blazing peaks of our burgeoning soul, which I thought I would go through, perhaps with a common, immortal will, all of you preached: Our fire-thrusts exploded, - For my soul's sake, as redeemed treachery: Hundreds and thousands of anxious cries and psalms all around me, yelping, moaning

About the cosmos infertility, the charms of your brown eyes. "But now my conscience is only roasting, quarreling, swearing with myself - humiliating myself to wretchedness, humiliated to the yellow earth: Why did you change the perfect moment for the Guaranteed Wonder when you chose your fragile flaming faith to give up as a whitewashed character, do you throw in recyclable waste?

Sweet love is so flatteringly so flirtatious, such a fragile decoy, that two swan palms that want to be careful rest on each other: almost fulfilled immortality adopts man! Yet something failed and shattered: In the sacred crossfire of all-kisses, we had to make peace one by one with the bitter pains of tearful tears: That spikes exploded into the heart, the emotion gurgling!

,, Don't kiss! Because you do not love me! Because we don't fit in, ”said the common sense and the flirtation, which was always confident. Tribute easily fell into the abyss! The consciousness of misunderstanding was too late: The Timed Bomb nestled in the blood-fibers of our minds, in the blood fibers of our bodies: Love exploded like volcanic eruptions!

We couldn’t know ourselves either, sacred recognition works like hell! - What a courage, what a hopeless loss of illusion, what an insane miracle that we breathed greedily for each other in the insatiable molecules of the moments and sniffed deeper and deeper from our common consecrated consciousness: Our eternal and unquenchable love!

"Now the five dawns of the morning are still dazed and drunk among the twists and turns of our consciousness: Late Winter is still ringing in winding streets!" I would soak up the faded minutes of my happier, more fulfilling days with you to shine again, for a little while longer: I would send you the messages of my orphaned tears through my closed eyes: I miss you so much, even now! - There are only two of us here:
The cruel seasonal rampage, and a loser accused of clumsiness!

Eye-injured-threatened ordas-lights give birth to a daily turbocharged reputation! There would just be no cocoa rhythm disturbance! In numb, hazel-brained brains, the flaming-minded intellect comes out like a diligent perch! Life is not easy! As he was left alone, a fluttering feather would soon pass away! The narcissistic personality disorder cracked in the cosmetic alleys of the cheekbones trotted up and down sincerely in love diganosis can rarely be read in embarrassingly caring V.I.P. faces shattered in mirrors! "Many times the most compromising, stinky consciousness begins to suffocate!"
 
A leaping moral norm strains each other when massive smearing on the ancient ****** of bacchanalies is playing with intoxicating passions! Exclamation-sound could rarely have been so sincere-wonderful! The silent clarity of *** instincts is more and more influential instead of really getting to know the other! The walls that speak the whispering sound of rooms are intentionally blocked! Winking, cynical commandments dance in the watch of friends! They cannot escape to any of the younger paradises; they collide with repellent walls of memory who have all been silenced!
 
His condensed rhythms are tied to the network of my veins by spicy guilt! It would be better to face everything! Lovers can become star-studded lovers of all ages! If they are not careful, liars can no longer spare each other! All Truth is relative, junk crap! - Sitting and flattening among little-small tyrants, **** and temper irritate his voice-imitating words! "Instead of romanticizing, the traitorous Moon is constantly swearing for revenge!" Elemental passion already prostitutes everything!

Even in invisible positions, a striking number of silent comrades swirl! The micro-periods of lives and orders have been overturned! It would be reassuring to examine the reasons for the love of loves with the enchanting loyalty of honesty! During the feminine deeds set to be generous, the paripas of sincere emotions also seemed uncontrollable! Users are also used; after admitted failures, there would be the possibility of restarts! Lightness is handling the computer crypt cold more and more nowadays!
 
Mandatory liability actions seemed more visible! In the period of sweeping the mats of understanding, perhaps everything has remained the same! "Fears that tremble in tears should have been taken more seriously!" A tightened smile has been set in the charity donations as well! The all-encompassing slap in the face has become untenable: the vile formula of self-tiring lies every second! From the selfish running of lives, it is essential to sway for unattainable goals! Salivating silence destroys the air of fuss! There were realizing insights! The vulnerable were immersed in feelings of unacceptable failures!
 
Empty people clenched the stomachs of their stomachs! Longing for conscious insecurity had already taken on inhuman proportions; the desire stopped unchanging! Livelihoods have been ruined by omitted, slowed-down show conversations, no real intent and truth can yet be revealed! Fewer and fewer know and understand just what it is: invisible to give up after unworthy falls! "In brainwashed colonies, the noisy noise is shrinking!"

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!

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

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

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

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

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


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

Oh, how many more titanically baptized, melancholic Ages, in which creative loneliness still resonates?! Sensationalism, a blind window of color blindness of devotion. Because even now the known and definite human yes and no mutual gambling game is constantly straining against each other; more and more at the mercy of a higher power every day, no one wants to accept the inexorable contradictions that could even supplement the foundations that have become unstable like a house of cards?!

The human soul today is more like a closed, secret book, which should be opened and turned carefully; one must understand the multifaceted meaning of the hidden Morse and Apocryphal codes if one wants to read it. In any case, it is increasingly difficult to gain safe entry through the wide keyhole of brainwashed skulls. – Even those who are ready for action are increasingly finding indifferent readiness everywhere.

The quarrelsome preachers could one day be replaced by a peaceful, wise spiritual agitator. A horde of grunting rascals is now huddled on the ruins of the world, they do not know how to survive their uncertain future. Because it is easier to exist confined to an inner infinity than to play around in the name of free will. The wretched, tinsel-like business shop has been handed over to gnawing rats and mice.

Because a clever phrase wants to puff itself up again and again on the shoulders of some straw men. – Now they are even burning invisible seals and stamps not only into the skin, but also into the chasms of the soul. The bowing, slobbering penguins are limping into this melancholy age; because they may know them as Executioners or good friends, they make a nicely gesticulated obeisance.

They serve spoiled food specialties and seafood to the unsuspecting VIP - star guests, who have especially delicate stomachs anyway. And while quite a few have just switched to the pleasures of zero-calorie diets and paleo diets as a fashion, they also deliberately make themselves ***** so that they can fit into the new trendy and fashionable clothing collection in time!

I would do my long-standing business, but there is no need for hermit witnesses! crouching ferry usages, human wrecks are moving on self-deprecating for their own benefit and they are learning to be a further guttable Being! Self-exited, re-established wild hordes tread the compromising Order on the way! The smell of burnt human flesh also makes them more annoying! Drunken, bred with great power intoxication, phlegm-chirping, pseudo-preachers would dictate the changing trend, and if it was hand in hand, it would have long since lost its conscious, preservable dignity!
 
They carry a roaring Lator cross modestly, while under others they light bonfires! Péter Pán's complex seedlings for the bohemian youth are marching around their necks with a umbilical cord rope around their necks! - In our idyllic freedom of the press, they even sublimely search our thinking brains; a couple of wandering experiments and study formations will only be able to survive if the "some" want to and the people standing around the honeycombs nod - but with lonely wolf-witnesses stuck outside the circles, what else can they do if they are stuck in further fragments, constantly sinking will they be lost?!
 
He holds us up with his back, while the ruthless Fate plays with us well; Being gives us a broken, bittersweet realization! Waves swirling await us with a mixed warning of fear! At the final frontier, the only edge is often the only luck that can be turned with crooked fingers...

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!

A persistent air of weakness may flare up, when the hesitant tunnels of the blood vessels may be torn open by a careless heart attack; the blood clots as big as rocks would hear the cry for help, which the restless heart probes in vain. As if it had become increasingly difficult, more burdensome to break down the silence of the liveable, visceral Reality, which is inevitably present and surrounds you. Generous sadness also forces a person in an increasingly persistent state to no longer be permanently happy and satisfied, since happiness is not a permanently constant state of mind, - but rather a forced euphoric agitation. The beating heart may crumble into its own purple, in its own muscles, if it is unable to listen to the words of the law of the Universe in this earthly existence.

Every person's lonely island story seems to have been born subconsciously, and could only exist in the floating ocean of inner thoughts, because it has nothing to do with the actual massive Reality. Because the weight of feelings, touches, and moods has become colorless, which would still have significance if they had once been created and acted upon in giving. The fierce mass tumult of blood molecules is simultaneously burned or destroyed by attraction and repulsion, the inevitable, indestructible pulsation.

Every single hesitantly successful act or deed now seems to release the certain impossible from itself!

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

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

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

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

Things, people, and petty moments seem to be running away from me now, even though I do not question them or interrogate them; it is no longer enough to simply pay attention to them or to turn to them in a way that is hypocritical and manipulative, when the outside world is merely playing itself out again in a hypocritical manner. Inside my soul, the earth-shaking desire to escape my seemingly restless ethereal stress and tension once and for all and to free myself from the sins of my frail earthly affairs still rages incessantly.

Philosophical tendencies that weave cobwebs still start tremblingly, hesitantly, if the interpretation of real life is the set and only essential goal; the Soul is at the mercy of, and unprotected from, a single, utterable, honest, tingling tremor, which only a heart can give to a heart. I keep shouting at the little child inside me, who often wants to stomp, and who dares to speak the truth for me.

I just don't have to tolerate the fact that the stumbling, vile memory rattles its crunchy, withered branches above my head, wanting to break off. I am still forced to exist in an increasingly vulnerable, sensitive zone, where I cannot be accepted, only a passing stranger, Silent pathnomios rummaging through the garbage of the day, hoping to find Darius' treasures. People, like determined criminals, are trying to rush along small, invisible, stretched tracks, more and more determined, after their increasingly pathetic, meaningless, useless plans!

His crashed, bewitched attention often became nothing; smeared memory will be all emotions! I would run away from the softly sinking, roaring winds! The surviving Tomorrow will shake in a fluttering duck movement! The short closing word zigzags to itself! I would be scattered in countless tiny pieces of pile in the eyes of the faithful Dear, so that even the pearl of redeeming tears could convey happiness! My dizzy atoms are just orbiting on their own like a continuous maze spiral!
 
Little by little, the Past is becoming more and more demanding every day! My dry-puffing sandbag life falls into a ravine if I leave! The corkscrews of a few promises can no longer make you feverish: in the above-ground band, I am still trying to gather my soul energies as much as they could stay! How long can I stay intact even in a postponed passage?! Crowded steps like a limping Hephaestus are deliberately shot; pinned gaping high like a pathetic, petty trophy!
 
A barely shadow of my sadness is projected on my barely-smiling face! In a single throbbing rib, my petal heart, which has started to punch, is forced to throb, because all the wounds can only be felt on its own! In the expectations set to the forefront, new tragedies can be born from moments that are poorly shaped! Punishment for star-shaped dropped feces! For sultry-speaking women, a complacent compliment is no longer worth it; they are all in love with their stun counterparts! I often wonder about the promises of flat handshakes!

When I was drawn to myself at once as a summer rampage, and the heat flirted with us, the landscape was sultry, fogged with volcanic vapors, and we would be accustomed to an air war of refreshing drafts — our eyes trained for science. We should stop losing the false illusion - which we have told each other as truth - and just love it as a sweet-sad consolation of tears! Just watch as the mature, drunken summer kisses the veins of tree leaves into golden treasures, training lattice-belly blinds so that when we fall into each other’s arms at the universal word of the Universe we can refresh the hiatus of the air.

Caress your hair with delicious and pleasant chocolate chips! "But happiness and satisfaction do not radiate from me now," despised bitterness rages with the pounding steel needle of a steam drill in your heart:


Now that you have grown into a married, committed woman, you can only vegetate almost every day so that the eternal One Emotion dies immortal again as Prometheus. “Many times I watch the silver smile of stars with a delicate navel — but that doesn’t hope for salvation either. To resurrect the immortal realm of Eden! Your eyes are two vulnerable, orphaned

a tiny continent of desolation and also the books - with which I surround myself every day, and they have brought remorse that has destroyed my counted time. Now, under the bearded icicles, I crouch up like beaten shipwrecks. The indifferent Winter also targets me with killer frost glances over my head!

Closed doors open before me again,
The yawning tear in the skies threatens to be stabbed by lightning knives if I don’t pay attention, I take care. - Everything greets you as a friend here: The cathedral, which has lived for a long time, the overbearing series of battered furniture, and the portrait hall of history have long been familiar! But in school days, in the universal corridors of solitude, long-unseen faces and echoes greet, and the Inquisition of my black book is insufficient!


I never understood: If one grinds one's mind with knowledge to sharpen and stay minded, why should it be punished? When I was here at an ice age: Ladies wreaths adorned every window and they laughed intoxicated! What could have happened? Were the truth-tellers, messenger-sages, expelled? Wherever I stop in the fragmentary moment, the legitimacy of fear and dread takes hold of cells!

The whitewashed walls screaming snow-white also tell of betrayals and humiliations! Behind the doors, I still listen to the threat of unfriendly exams and exams! It carries a doom inside every minute: The time here is always over; Innocence swears with frightening humility in lamb deer eyes! "The alien passer-by is immersed here in the fog of statelessness!"

No apology! No excuse! No forgiveness! One cannot always trust here on one's own, one can hope for emerging goals!

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?!

Ever since man has been conscious, he has been aware of it a little: here, it seems as if everything has suddenly ceased to exist, has been ruined, has been destroyed, as if there is no way to go anywhere or escape from here, because the whole big World is totally ruined. Nothing is and cannot be in rock-solid order anymore. It is as if not only the cells, organs, but also the driving springs of the internal body responsible for digestion, which also operate the heart acting as a pump, are deliberately becoming heavier.

And already – without a doubt – the tiny vibrations of the soul still move themselves faithfully, perhaps the dog no longer even pays attention to them. The inner longing torments the man's guts more and more; to go or to remain still for a few more ownerless, uninhabited decades, until we are no longer forty but fifty or sixty years old, and the piles of feces of our dreams and plans intended for realization dissolve into old men.

There is rarely a way out of the tingling grip of enormous lead weights, because sooner or later, one way or another, one must necessarily perish unworthy among the mists of gray, mortal dawn. The latent Lack grafted into Nothingness can still be held to an infinite account, because it would always interrupt, cut off the conscious realization to which man would generally still cling. Should we be left to rot, so that the eternal-childish fear and anxiety boil halfway?!

A touching tide of phrases of nauseating, nauseating speeches; that how much easier it would be if I-Time could be somehow expanded, although it is universally known that it is all in vain, because a single day only has 24 hours, and because there are many people for whom even 36 hours are becoming less and less!

Because the unfair giggle, the nagging anger, is growing more and more - not only in the heart - but also in the darkening tunnels of the mind, then it clings to the inner instincts and senses of the person and surrounds him. Our words of apology also convey total disgust towards the otherwise completely superficial outside world. The gaps of fear in our panic are deliberately clogged with a hidden, yearning sigh for something nobler and better.

We don't know why, while others are rising on the petty, compromising ladders of such and such appreciation, the average person is sinking more and more, as if tons of lead weights were hanging on his feet.

The filth and the pile of objects that the light, summery wind is blowing towards you from somewhere are becoming increasingly intoxicating, and perhaps it is better if - in many cases - you say no instead of your unnecessary promises of yes; they splash the ancient driftwood of slander on you, because sometimes the scapegoat on duty comes and goes, and anyway someone has to do this too.

The suppressed joy of speechlessness would often be so good to release as pure spontaneity to the waves of the troubled and restless soul... Those who want to get anywhere at all may have to wait for a long time with throbbing throats, because people are pouring twenty thousand into sold-out concerts and festivals, and there is really nothing to see there except the faces of the party-goers. The stuffy buzz is becoming more and more crumbly, like low-fat pet food that has already gone bad.

Because in the flesh-purple ***** cavities - I fear - the bonfire of spark-spinning creativity no longer flies here and there. Bravely competing with troubles, quarreling and helpful Fate, where are you now?! Where have you hidden yourself, that it is impossible to even sense that someday, even with the existence of possibilities, everything will improve and even a weak person will voluntarily improve his selfish self!

In his superstitious eyes, a tingling, false, flirtatious caress is born when he looks at the other in a self-giving way and deepens the given encounter every second; confessions made in the atrium of purple-petal flaming hearts are made and the dream charm of ****** kisses is seldom if you can give comfort! In mutual-beneficial blindness to each other, a solid telepathy of thoughts flows back and forth in the secrets of the eyes! Excited trembling travels its way through the channel tunnels of throbbing blood vessels, and each other's souls glowing in restless love suddenly migrate through the chemistry of the body!
 
The little secrets of our hearts, pounding in the rhythm of flowing, refractive pulsations, are all coming together! And he continued to ring-knead its members from cell tissues that could be built further! Can he find in his absolute adulthood, as others have demanded of him, a childish, more playful face and, through it, can he still marvel at the blind spots of falling vulnerabilities? From time to time, only the heart trembles, bleeding drums in every miscarriage clamp socket! In the past, every burned minute memory supports another squeaky mouse! "Where is the giving, protective Angel with wings, spread with his human goodness?!"
 
In his superstitious voice, he keeps whispering, "He still loves and forgives my childhoods!" - They would squeeze each other's outstretched hands so that we could still cling to the hopeful possibilities of moments and hope; point traumatic enrichment can be interrupted somewhere like an invisible thread! There are more and more tragedy-like ordeals, even rats on sinking ships: no one is comforted by the vulnerable crying of ourselves.

In homeless, homeless swarms, ravens chatter on skeletal-sectioned tree branches: Charred black bones preparing to cool! They didn't spare the cold shadows of the seasons, either, while they could: Believe that the stealthy flare of the fading day has now stopped for good! The only possible connection between the two lovers was that they clung to each other with umbilical cord captivity, capturing each other’s safety - social gravity prejudices everyone.

he beheads, he is not curious about you because he never asks! With clenched fists, clenched teeth whirling, fluttering, cuddle in Time-vacuum, thoughts flutter with meaning, after warming pity! An icy silence turned into a executioner, murderous air seeps through the tunnels of the body! - From the sunken time, it would be such a good satisfaction to pull you out now,

that your blushing temper could unfold the blood-rosy essence on your face! Alas! - It must be late, it can't be! Memories swaying in the past can now be easily deceived: In vain! The years go by faster than at the beginning of our birth, when everything and everyone is brand new! -

Well, this is how we live on and on: You are scattering what could have been Beautiful and Noble, and many friendly-spirited, perhaps only good-natures presented to the world - those who were really in captivity in Mortal Time are now long gone, and may never return they know!
"The one-eyed Cyclops eye with a single-eyed wink no longer greets him, and with its deep red wounded arch, the rainbow has moved into transience," a vague, uncertain, organicizing material accumulates on the island of the Horizon line!

The falling twilight of arches still breaks through the balcony of the dusks; a few orphaned beams of light drift, the barks of dusks crackle on the branches of the trees - even the former loving hearts are shackled by the wedding songs of the birds. Rushing contacts strain against each other, until even the beginnings that were thought to be planned end in total breakups.

The established form and movement, which once seemed so homely, become formless. In our wakefulness, we listen to the talking shadows whispering greetings, sneaking unnoticed here and there; with a butterfly soul, it is perhaps increasingly difficult to truly get to know someone, because it does not let itself be deterred by superficial exhibitionist frills.

- The conscious dream of insignificance seems to have long been an integral part of the calvary of our everyday lives. For the petty Odyssey of ever new futility is also the homesickness of longing, which once belonged to every man. The garden of despised silences is watered with tears of childish sadness; one should not possess the power of inexorable surrenders - but one should understand their meaning.

Truth-telling honesty maneuvers in a boat among inescapable mistakes and perhaps even itself cannot know how it should learn from its mistakes and the set of its failures... For it is known: every Shadow of Times is only an empty phrase-dream, if it cannot be realized tangibly. We must increasingly uncertainly maneuver ourselves through the turbulent waves-murmurs of existence. - It is not certain that it is possible to cling to the uncertainty of seasons. The compulsion of reality has also become inexplicable; in the discovery of ourselves on journeys, homesickness is just as tense!