The wedding ring of glass plates rolled in dark eyes; how much psychological recognition does it take for the eternity of the moment? Who cherishes the gates of the Universe that shine like human stars, and would you call them with a smile sincerely? On the bodies of Adam and Eve, the sweaters, the enchanting oaths whispered to the loving lips stick to each other as Beads of Truth: The self-rule of “I love you”! "Mysterious Wild West door squeaks signal a distress predictive of the siege campaign of cooling winds!" In our idyllic dreams we could be deep wells falling into ourselves and discovering the childlike essence of the other truthful in the lake mirrors of our souls, while we could cling to each other like snoring buckets!
 
Even in the face of each other, we tied our perpetual games in such a way that we can learn the rules of survival more boldly even in ever denser masses of love! Like ten dim and fierce wildcat eyes - so we watch in silence, out of ambush this unworthy Big World! In itself, with real honesty to illuminate the recognizable fear of a real Colombian deed! Like discovering insidiously vulnerable sins in heartbeats that betray ourselves! - When did nicknaming seductive stars tell true truths?
 
When we learn to cherish in another, the orphaned love can be brought together again by the all-embracing Loyalty! We could not deny our mutual compromises, while in the unfolding Universe of flaming kisses we felt to break out and always renew the other

Why do we feel that if they have been lined up for decades, as if Time were a false witness, even innocence would contaminate a person to the core?! From the black-and-white films of negatives - back then - it would have been much easier to evoke an eternal moment in the captivity of darkrooms, which is perhaps characteristic only of each individual.

The roads directed towards the finish line have become one-way labyrinths, just like the crossroads of the desire for faith. Many may not know it yet, but mere good-willed intentions are not always certain to be chosen with free will.

Often they do not dare to notice the hunters lurking in the depths of everyday life, who exist and breathe just like anyone else; one could say that they deliberately, with superficial pleasure, eviscerate life to the core. - because now fewer and fewer people are excited by the consciousness of half-humanity; that they sold themselves and made a deal.

The good thing about romantic love in the past was that it was as if the One-Beloved had carried the feelings in her womb, so that she could then give them birth every day, while the pain was replaced by selfless, radiant happiness. In every case, it ends the same way; whoever sets out on a long, unknown journey is not sure that he will find what he was really looking for. One wonders where he could have ruined the selfish game theories, as well as the manipulable psychological tools, if he looked into superstitious eyes!

With frozen human will, he already seems unable to step out of the comfort zone. The alley cell forest of faces accelerates the already accelerated time. Standing ant-offspring propagate their useless footsteps down there. To love with others: a burgeoning betrayal of loyalty. - Even now, the most popular phrase is conscious star-ghosting loneliness.

When the love nest is full and the glassy existence is whitewashed. ****** scars cover the heart's pulsating parts everywhere. The diminutive disagreement also degrades itself into an expensive-cheap drama. It is as if the power of touch, of feelings, is constantly defrauding of common sense instincts.

The shadows suddenly increase and they must lose the moment that is considered to be stopped; the treacherous romance is that you can't make your eyes out enough. Do you need body-cab prostitution to operate the needs of life ?! "It would be better for the immortal universe to heal itself with werewolf blindness."

 In the urban jungle of the ruins of the outskirts, the cell-spiral of haunting moonlights and the musicality of the gradually encircling, taming shadows can always be useful against the ghosts staring at bamboo. Most people today are exhibitionist stateless: they leap out of a relationship into independence while they spend their family time on career building. - Our face is in vain for an oppressive, ambitious break.

The will of interest has long been divisible. If we could remain a prophetic shard, an unrecognizable spark riddle would be a more acceptable tolerance to the dark shadows of mirrors!

There was only one twilight. Like celestial bombs, a chorus of flying, whistling grenades, a roar of wild hyena when they wound the sky. I still carry the invincibility of adolescence - in vain - even now! Perhaps the biggest of my blunders is the unresolvable compliment emotion I vowed to Someone!

- My shoulders are now multiplying and thickening with unquestionable and recurring tasks! Soon, it will signal a change of era again, with proud overtones at midnight and my grief at puberty, that the hearts of ladies did not need my romantic trophies, my hot dream visions will germinate quickly in me! I haven't whistled about the problems so far,

in a whispering incognito among people, I waved well. The night had reached the end of the day with its terrifying goblins, and as a minor concern, as excess was set aside once in a while - I will be forgiving. Time, now, is still rushing like a quarrelsome express train:

I should slowly find a companion in this crowded hustle and bustle. Surely we should laugh at the many fools, thus getting drunk on the extinct and uninhabited vault of the street and gates; fetrengeni day length: True this is now the last day of an forgivable year, and perhaps the last, unfortunate countdown! Moon-eyed frozen hoarfrost spit barbed wires towards us when frozen, indifferent, snowy rain falls! "I'll be standing here for thirty years soon, and I still don't know: Did my imagination play a deceptive game when our gaze met forever, or did he teach him less than a student?"

Proud and light-hearted signs of neglect are everywhere, attracting every corner of the street, embracing them! The shadows of more and more hidden places on the alley balconies of the streets are growing! They are augmented by the false awareness that they can scare people with impunity while going to the nerves of others strained to the ground!

But even now the old houses stand majestically and on a proper hill: Shuttered shutters, indifferent caretakers proclaim the abundant peace that still remains! "Even though the street is an eternal, immortal noise-noise," he still keeps something of your indelible past: How far have you come? How do you achieve the curvature of your stretching track?

For it is in vain that ruthless darkness weaves a lasting cobweb around you as an untrustworthy trap - you do not know your broken tears, nor your suffering trapped in mud. Proud and light-hearted signs of desolation are everywhere, embracing every corner of the street.


The people here are just life-threatening wrecks, wounded ghosts! This big city is getting more and more unrecognizable, more and more dangerous! Suspicious gazes cling to you like sticky leeches like assassins and you know, even if you run away: Evil and jealousy are secretly sneaking up and uniting to plunder your universality!

A deserted street that lived better days - no flickering light. The stomach-turning silence before your doom moves into the sight of your eyes! You would run, flee to your angelic redemption unfolding in two eyes: But He must be far away while you are struggling with the demons of your own fears, fighting! S after dark starless hopelessness shackle s tie…

Why is it still true that stars with silver arrows are struggling above my head in spiderweb light? It's a very, very whitewashed sky. In the shadow of emerald-scaled cypress leaves, perhaps Someone-Someone may still be waiting for me. From the tired cave of my selfish sadness, a somewhat concerned grotesque-distorted face stares back at me; it still wants to decipher the complex meaning of life, and enjoy what is still possible.

As if tamed joy, happiness too, were an ugly, hunchbacked little clown, which we can possess only in the small degree of moments, the peacetime Ariadne's thread of memories would flicker above our heads incessantly, if we let it be carried away by action, zealous deed, determined will. It is often easier to believe the tale of conscious exclusion, because then it is true that no one bothers us. It would be better to patiently and wisely cherish the web of interconnected superstitious glances, and rather to constantly look: what secrets and messages might the other person's golden heart hold?!

- Radioactive sighs can now even reach the sky. - Because the future is now an increasingly uncertain, deliberately salted, barren desert, where only the influential can have the sole privilege, while the little people are crushed, robbed, and what is even more merciless: they are trampled like vile little grains of dust. Instead of a moving, limping, dwarfed nobody on the shoulders of others, the many limping, fake-tinny fools create illusions of crosstalk; Nowadays, there are fewer and fewer people who still understand that it is not the meager promise of destinations that tempts people towards miracles - but the visceral beauty of the bumpy, challenging road section itself!

Man - even if he tries to be careful - wears the tattooed black stripes of days and nights; he will notice that he falls back without a trace into the paradise of silent stealth, to remain a little invisible or even unnameable in semi-incognito. The total chaos of indefinability is now increasingly trying to become a part of conscious everyday life, but not for long.

That man is now increasingly surrounded by crooked, interrogating mirrors, which keep the vile cult of superficial, meaningless exhibitionism still trendy and fashionable. If necessary, if not permanently, a talkative, sloppy noise swirls. Being - often - is also a fussy, irresistible One, because the cobweb of conscious oblivion would surround it.

The busy, upside-down decade is also more likely to sharpen sword blades and train atomic bombs; no one remembered, perhaps didn't even really think about, the red buttons that would trigger, or even the snapping trap of parentheses. Only suspicion, the ancient suspicion lingers for a long time, like someone who has secretly stopped in the doorway of a deserted, garbage heap; a crypt-smelling, cadaverous shadow still looks back and forth. Because the game of life seems to have been arranged on the chessboard of birth, and the straw puppets that can be pulled only hang here and there between the strings of Time, which they cannot yet understand.

Man remains more and more closed in on himself, because he knows exactly that out there in the World - fear - that with education and professional knowledge it is not certain that he would be able to do anything, although he may know: but it would be good to shake off all unnecessary ******* from himself completely, but his soul cannot open its rusty keys anytime.

Your thoughts drew the almighty trace of your swan legs in the sand. Your handsome eyes carried a coral star! In an uninhabited sand desert, the two of us shook hands half-naked, and we waited for the patient intimacy to just greet us, and quietly to be influenced by the all-pervading emotion: The heart-secret of our immortality!

Sea foams licking shapeless rocks embrace gracefully, stretching; he thought he had forgotten, a dream come true you live again and then disintegrate again. I put my feet timidly after your footprints, and the surface holds shapes that can be formed from fine-grained sand.

But what else would I have been looking for here when you hadn't traveled in a long time, and I, too, only through your brainwaves, I thought terád? More than anything, your eternally nicknamed, chattering mouth, which was condemned and punished on the Day of Doom, said: You cannot deliberately find an antidote to sincere Truth once you have taken it prisoner!

I was there in all the material to be changed: In your joy and sorrow, in the waterfalls of the tears of your eyes, I was there! And yet in your excessive lightness, you did not appreciate me! Invisibly, I still keep an eye on your priceless life, and I still don't know myself: Why is it necessary and necessary, as an ancient protector, to chatter after you?

If I had committed a sin against you, you could have felt it a long time ago: for your heart struck like a fool and rumbled! "We've become each other's dearest, saddest poisons: You seduced me with the sweetness of chocolate, and I wore the chains of my compliments embracing you proudly while giving you a chance!"

Unknown, uncertain tomorrows stomp over my head like ghosts or goblins awakened from their sleep. I often wonder: have I actually changed so much that everyone has slowly disappeared from my side, or have they just left me alone, like half-witted disabled people, or Forest Gumps who have failed, or is it the grotesque, nonsense World with which I have come to understand myself less and less?!

My eternally childish self of adolescence often competed not only with speeding cloud continents, but also with the instincts of the Universe, which lurk in the depths of my eyes, unnoticed by the conscious; vanished card houses, dream ships that have run out. And while the great Wheel of Time, which has begun to rust, is constantly grinding the spinning blind luck, like hasty fugitives fleeing from man's happy and peaceful eras.

Whom Fate has dragged so stepmotherly after the ornate, posh daridos of prom-goers, although his specific plans had a meaning and purpose, today, as an outcast, he tries to thrive on the surface of the earth with less success. Why, that all remaining human intentions are already so cursed?! I would like to faithfully investigate whether the whole thing can have any meaning at all in this turbulent anthill World, and that even once a man could not have lived here in vain, - perhaps - this is now just a piece of crap, a foolish dream, nothing more, and so our useless, burdened decades are also turning to dust.

- All bargains and laws are in vain: The World and the weak little nobodies in it never change, because it is impossible to take a worthy guarantee for its promise and word. I will bequeath my sick, tachycardiac heart-stump, like a human, traveling Robinson Crusoe, to an urn: see, I am dust and ashes!

We stand alternately on the platform. We stand in the changed Time; we follow the side sound of blind tracks purely, disciplinedly unceasingly. Here the joy of existence is that we dare to get up and hope again - what was once priceless and perhaps most precious!

Blood clots lift up rocks, tiny dams, wordless in us, like silent murderers who silently sit down and ****, choking alive! The final fragment of Being is now scattered with monotonous and melancholy indifference, while under the surface the devouring death moves and bites…

The year-ring of the seasons is placed on our faces: The broken tears of snow, soot and sky send their sky-whining messages to us! "We are only digested on our own, and we are free to digest us in degrees of self-pity!"

With the gaping black threat deep in our hearts, the flowering spring and summer of the missed happier years stares at us. The cradle of the mundane universe of life, in which innovative love may have been conceived! -

This is how we stand, we stand and wait in the hope of a safer start, and we do not realize under the surface secretly and individually how much of its hidden weight and driving force is the secret mechanics of the richness of forgotten details, the chain of small fragments! And if we are mistaken for a single moment in sure uncertainty - the obscurity of the future alienates us!

Let’s ask ourselves the eternal One-Question: Where did I have to start, and how long do I understand ?! "Desperate abandonment and abandonment is our most patient killer, because it doesn't ask much!"

My heart rings with an increasingly dumb answer that it can no longer be, it cannot be! Two immortal passions battling the struggles of wolves within you, and yet I could not meet you forever! He blew your angelic being on the edge of Eden! - There's still no other connection! Why?

Come on! Foolish aside with the speech of a fool! - Not possible! In my lava soul, the consciousness of death is spreading, the bitter complaint of being left alone: ​​It can no longer be a completely missed opportunity! I understood the flood of words of your tears, "Knock it down at last!" You are ANYONE! ” - Does it make sense for anything?

I wake up halfway between the waking coma in the morning, the hypnotized hibernation, maybe waking up from latte: It's so incomprehensible that you can't be by my side when I need you, you're not with me! Without you, I look like burnt-out wreckage, rusting bodies! I really miss the radiation of your being's nuclear nucleus, its constantly feeding cosmic energy!

              

It would still be so good to exchange a word or two of friends with you liberated, without restraints, before your pessimistic sense of existence is finally infected! - I still wonder: Did I ruin everything or, if we knew we didn't fit together, why did he stop with a commanded law: The Mood of the Heart?

I have lost you forever, irreversibly! And I do not know in the trenches of unpredictable destinies when I will be able to meet you again; not with you, not without you passing by? The pensive Time repeats itself, still falling apart, I fall to the depths quickly, the number is still half-hearted, I hear repeated stumbles, I try to avoid the painful Truth on unknown paths!

You may know: When your lily head fell asleep on the shoulders of my shoulders, I confessed the Truth: I love you very much! "Suddenly the fleeting dream fell to pieces," I had to wake up.

Maybe - then one day this disbelieving katyvas, an obsessed idyll, a futile self-branding that many consider the secrets of my heart will end. What was this drowning air resistance, a volcanic eruption? A short but more lasting successful armament with the power of Words. - See orphan, my pessimism left to me is forced to chase me because it has nestled in the target of my head and my whole life has been

hesitant to insecurity, one-time escape! "I would have liked to have laughed proudly at the World in your arms, but I could not take heart and never forgive you or myself: Silver ice beads shattered your sincere face like true beads!" "Now that you really aren't physical, but maybe you're standing next to me with spiritual smoldering faith, I still don't know if I'll listen to wise advice and destroy you forever from the island of my desires if you ask: Why my tearful vulnerability?" Then maybe he will answer for me! After all, it was so good to sit with you in prison benches, to sit in shackles, miserable, and to rest, and to watch and watch with my persistent patience: the throbbing hammering of your sweet heart as it enters

to a more private terrain, and how comforting and reassuring your overwhelming victim, which you have brought for me, when, in the midst of the hunger of starving wolves, he has lifted my bleeding honor, the human hills of my morals, to the wings of your angelic patience.

Man, you had better take good care of yourself, because it has become a custom in the world to court the executioner in the language of a dog nicknamed good-natured or a monkey that barks. You will remain a permanent loser of a lack of a single day. Perhaps some other solution would be useful if you remained a victim of such a permanent longing. Because you have to endure the uncertain future without admitting it.

Perhaps even the embryo memorizes in the womb that if it is born, a permanent, mortal captivity of its body and spirit awaits it, for the sake of a dubious example. Behind our hands that ask for help, there is still a lack of any kind of effective support; space or time - I fear -, it will never settle down again, because it will viscerally consume the members of the earth, its defenseless victims, because the massive house of cards built from loans and credits is growing, which will soon collapse before its time, man crawls among buried fragments of pottery in this nameless space-time, and perhaps he will not even know what it is at the hour of his death?!

The word, the promise, the oath of handshakes have become an empty shell. The sound form that sounds like reason is also becoming increasingly disintegrated, torn, we should try to think with patience and empathy and this is not taught in the so-called public sector schools, only in the Montessori ones. - The bitter wrinkles of the soul cannot be washed out in a washing machine to make it squeaky clean, like the oft-repeated "tabula rasa" - the tattooed knife marks of stars shine on dried faces, but fewer and fewer people can understand the universal messages. Because now, it seems, the antennae of thinking, scientific brains have been permanently spared on purpose.

On the Nineveh-smelling, alley-like street corner, habit is becoming increasingly furious. The plum body of indifferent public sentiment seems to be withering; the petty rage of moods is also stirring more and more imperceptibly, although for now only in melancholy silence, because the big city is already infected with work-horror, the face of a hack is always suspicious; since no one is named and no one polishes parquet floors and terracotta stones to their liking and the total is always doubtful, because it is constantly changing.

In disposable job grinders, stadium-sized emotions try to stir the stagnant water; the always imported melon peel has long since rotted, just like the pitted, crunchy but wormy cherry, because even the last thoughts cannot really win on their own. Deep in the soul – fearful –, man would in vain seek smaller wormholes for himself in a self-willed rebellion, and then with transparent hearts, like a wandering ghost, to wander carefully throughout his life, because in this consumer society no one can be truly himself anymore.

And since perhaps no one finds it, because they could not really look for the hiding place of happiness, the unbearably deliberate narrow path of existence now leads to total Nothingness, the disenfranchised meaning of which is increasingly difficult for anyone to understand. Man rolls heavy boulders like Sisyphus in vain if he cannot settle anywhere and remains in one place. More and more emphasis is placed on superficial, exhibitionistic artificiality, while the small child crouching in the soul is gradually, intentionally forgotten.

They can leave their moldy faces hanging for decades on some arrogant, rusty copper screws, from which protruding nails sneer their ominousness; modern man is increasingly showing withdrawal symptoms that seem to be hidden!

The past has become a dark path! Millions of pieces of being below flowed into the rings of memories, self-awareness involuntarily memorized! It swirls like a terrible, outraged dizziness like a black river in the Infinite! "You can't forget: your haunting past looks back at you with your questioning your present and asks!" Your germ as a stamped wound rises daily because the Wholeness is over! Throw yourself into suicide - see if you survive!
 
Every minute of your sighs, he flirts with you and Death can strike back! Your alpha point was your beautified birth, while your bowed being was Omega! Use wisely what you have kept and learned in your vulnerable heart! On the crumbling memorial ruins of your heart, the dying day was spared another deserved opportunity! From afar, Nineveh is buzzing; as watchmen, vigilant guards would cling to the sermons of the prophets! Nothing ancient throat yawns at us like a siege of cetacean intestinal worms - you measure your life in agony among anxious heart attacks! "The echo sigh of souls lost as sea crust penetrates your heart!" - You accustom your heart to renunciation; this vile, hypocritical World can hardly proclaim the holy word of Mercy more!
 
As an eternity of moments, suffering anxiety stifles! Five-minute-man-blues, plaza-kittens are sobbing for fame and cheap sensations in drooping, noisy crowds! - Conscious horror subsided into a scar ache; no one will hold your life hand persistently and a meter-hole pit will open in the depths of your heart! Fat Death devours your flesh while chewing your bones…

Life just wouldn’t be so unbearably complicated. Don't pay bills, utility debts, lean-earning bums Judas pennies would depend on Everything, the point: You can live if you don't spend anything on yourself anymore, even in the condominium you call your supposed home, but you don't use your elevator politely your inner circles!

Just wouldn't romance be vulnerable. In his blood-red-twisted wounded lips, two orphaned Human Stars stood, perhaps ready to confess, and trembled for moments as the atomic bomb minute erupted, passed, and the loser-kissed, eternal losers guard the delicate, fragile trembling of the Almighty! While the half-nail is in love practicing with new deployment practices!

I just wouldn’t have so many half-nails, thoughtful, and foolishly charming tutyimutyit that ***** knife tips if you approach with his light the sun’s rays get in my sweetheart’s hair. Wherever I act, I compliment you as an enthusiastic, squeezing troubadour and serenade even with a plucked guitar - as a stick-ear - as an overly enthusiastic amateur, and face the possible possibilities of seduction with us!

He sneaks at us because there is nothing in vain, and because there is no responsibility and no will, but the ever-present, current currency! "We all know — and yet, when we confront the possible True as we wink at us, a diminishing sense of shame nestles in them: The Failure is that we have approached with the responsibility of dishonest intent."

Halfway between my two hands, perhaps, that certain bottomless, lasting disgust will still splash out, like when the diligent, eager patience picks beetles from the emerald leaves of pleasingly grown potato beds, so that there will - hopefully - be no more problems with the crop. As if they were slippery, exposed slug bodies, as if they did not want to understand that they too have their place in the cyclical order of nature, as in the ranking of ecosystems.

These heatwave days greet us now in idle, sparkling whiteness; black cannibal laughter is heard surprisingly close, as if it were the howling of greedily starving wolves, who are not afraid of the cheap anger of hunters, nor the terror of lightning rods.

- A universal age of unbridled debauchery, like a test of floods, as if it wanted to inject itself into the smallest, almost micro-millimeter poles of man, from which there is no escape, but - true - hardly any salvation. Because between pores there is still inevitably hiding, and secretly and cautiously fleeing some inner misguided memory, refuge: the hanging of eyes without perspectives towards the uncertain future.

Man would almost constantly try the nerve endings of sluggish indifference, beneficial infarct-shadows nestle richly in his heart, while he receives a small pension for the time being. Nothing will come of Mak's captivity, because something is preventing him from doing so and will no longer allow him to exercise even the simplest of actions, which wouldn't hurt if it could continue for another twenty or so years!

Gnashing of teeth, re-established, **** sermons on the gaping paths of aging wakefulness! In the depths of our vulnerable souls, we carry the annihilated orphan, the vulnerable child, in the same way! We are already deliberately holding our children's ears so that we cannot hear the curses of ferocious, absolute adults, their everyday, shameful betrayals! A single, tiny word of sparks, a nasty, sighed thought, and everyone already felt and knew: the conspiracy of exclaimed wise men dried on lips sewn like a supplication! Even crying-eyed silence is telling less and less! Among his aching self-pain, he himself freezes into stone, and as a afflicted Sisyphus he can no longer guess, his vastly buffalo-heavy stone blocks will have to be carried by him all the time!
 
You can no longer stand out in the world, and you can hardly survive: everyone is just emphasizing themselves, the other self looks like superficial face shop windows! Harmony, as a light, mundane sedative, cannot serve as a cure for the restless who have been slapped on the head! A squeaking subconscious half-dream attracts me, and embracing it with understanding love, if I let the unpredictable, mischievous things happen! Behind the inner walls of personality, the roaring, quarreling outside world is still purring! The cracked shadow spots of curved mirrors are deepened by magpies under superstitious eyes, minute-grooves! Even in their daily robot life, we fall from the top down to the swirling depths and we want to cling strongly to the angelic greetings that can be realized even on earth!
 
The perceptual intellect gradually turns back into itself! The metamorphosis formula of an imagined dream can only succeed together!

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

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

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

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

I couldn't grow up! Doubt shook to the bone! My vulnerable being is peeling, like the sun phobia! Brain-shrinking silly idiots echo on modern channels as clamps! Your vigilant reminder woodpecker is on your forehead! Your conscience is constantly interrogated and addressed! "Out of the desire for adventure out there, out of greed for careers, they ******* the Sanctuary of the Earth Universes!" Form breaker XXI. cheap Celebecskés dream of lustful immortality in the 20th century!
 
You can also fall out of Paradise quickly, and not just by tasting forbidden fruits! "The" camp of those who know everything better "is bouncing off me, shouting loudly! Human wrecks shrinking into fetal pores like crushing vultures and jackals are brawling in drug addicts that cause serious addictions! Even my existing cowardice in my shed little boyhood cannot be intentionally unnecessary! My onion peel self can only be reached by those who approach with empathy and friendliness!
 
The perceptible point decomposes into a thin translucent eye for human eyes: as endless crumbs, only sporty-**** titans and goddesses can kick into a ball! Snap-out, bachanaly party queens will instantly free you from your longing dreams! "You know: the Guardians could hardly stay awake, who could still be honored with their sincere friendship!" "This is how I intentionally turn to myself: a spiral inward spiral staircase!"
 
I am forced to lurk among the constantly grinning flower and gorilla heads like a prodigal traitor many times! "Even among human-shaped caresses, there was hardly a person who couldn't take responsibility for what he did intentionally!" - Disco rats offer occasional drugs and services in the form of profitable hyenas, and for those who are still looking for a place, they become pale. Jerky and phalma-manneredness developed into a way of life! Only the most successful heroic heroes can be

It is dangerous to investigate with suspicion not only the small, seemingly insignificant bagatelle secrets of the Universe - but also to observe from the secret corner of the eyes the apparent tricks of the present Reality as if nothing had happened. Blind luck can escape from the hands of a person who has started to get holes at any time; the momentary joy and happiness are so imperceptible, barely perceptible, like some strange, inexplicable series of states.

As soon as a person meets an individual who seems to many people, it is better to observe everything in detail; from the culture of debate to the logically constructed coordinate systems of reason. "Some" who are still driven from within by the greedy, visceral career appetite will fall into fertile traps, to spend more and more - hopefully - at the expense of others. Why did we have to experience that even the false sincerity of love, affection, and feelings can be replaced at any time, can be put into Procrustean beds?!

Increasingly, inevitable decades of unstable sandcastles may await us, which have neither end nor length, because in a somewhat nightmare-like way, one can imagine that one is spitting in one's face every second, and the universal **** is now less and less able to be wiped away. One always overdoes it, but at the same time pushes the degrees of misunderstanding too far, because the outside world no longer reacts to it as it should; empathy, tolerance, solidarity - I say so - have all degenerated into meaningless, shallow words. Instead of providing help, general A grimace turned into a raised eyebrow.

The smell of coffee makes you feel nauseous and nauseous, like it's another lice day that you have to start somehow!

Something is now starting to surface, while thought and spirit are forced to listen incessantly in the depths of the Soul. Something would necessarily have to open the iris-retinas of the colorblind eyes, where petty, selfish, manipulative secrets lie hidden, because the totality of non-existent materials has unexpectedly-suddenly changed form and shape. It would be good if we all learned to cling to our still forgivable, foolish-childish mistakes, which could once have made us human; our tingling fingertips, like semaphore-seismic compasses, would feel the redeemable promise of the truer Universe.

Reason - even now - would dictate the vile conditions out loud in vain; the psychological smoke of permanent misery certainly already covers the brainwashed heads daily. The spiral circle returning to itself always closes, since it can return to itself; the metamorphosis should be noticed in radiantly happy eyes, which have not yet been seized by the power of disenfranchised materialism.

Man's most loyal shadow companions dissolve disembodied into the Nirvana-Nothingness, because behind it still remains the uncertain milieu nicknamed the permanent; we would like to despise our well-traveled Robinson-feet in the noise of the knocking silences, when the world has already shrunk to Omega. The stigma-stations of waiting accustomed to patience are becoming less and less understandable!

An unshakable ***** of this mihasna to Earth; he puts his coat together with needle showers on his face and goes on gritting! Kneeling-blowing, roaring winds blow into the eyes of tearful Calvary! The firm confessions of his wounded soul can be humbled to tears! It forces insidious evils, committed, brazen sins, to account! - He still goes to the ***** and is not reluctant to arrest human objects either; indifferent, phlegmatic texts would rock the crumbs of Truth witnessing in his soul! In his fallen eyes, he carries a Judgment woven from a branch of blood lilies against traitorous bitangers!
 
His face is still a long-forgotten Stranger! Trembling in the fog! As a deliverer from the ancient depths of caves, the silly does not interfere with Being; as the Hermit Prophet listens and gathers into himself the experience that has taken place of facts! "Black, melancholy herds are trampling on your aching stigma wounds!" His tempers, which fall into silence and beat to the soles of his hands, are still in store before the strained explosion! He reserves words to deliver the fear of fall only to the eternal Universe!
 
My pleasure creeps behind the coat shadow! Woe to the Winners now! - his judgment creeps! All the supplies of adolescence were taken from him! The chicory wreath of anecdotes is no longer watered by the immortal Dear! He never wanted to crash into the camp of skewers who swallowed skewers with infallible faith! "The ***** goes on: he's a raging native and a staring stranger, he's the only one in the Guardians' camp!" On the cross of immeasurable times, it revolves around the gears of eternal self-repetitions…

No matter how much he tried to free himself, - he rather tolerated his slavery, he did not stand it, he did not even beat himself up with superior, scheming powers for it - perhaps he really does not want to be freed for good; he will be a shackled slave for his entire life. No matter how much he wanted to be free, the coronary veins wrapped around his sick, yet sensitive, beating heart like a murderous hog, no matter how much he tried to free himself; the paramedic was repeatedly delayed for thirty quarrelsome minutes.

No matter how much he tried to free himself, his One-Beloved preferred the diminishing goods of materialism; the temporary luxury lifestyle - no matter how much he tried to cooperate with logically constructed reasons - this ragged life was too much for a true Angelic miracle. In vain he tried to free himself from the underworld depths of placenta pits, he felt and knew: something was not and could not be right in this big World, where the calculating strong always crushes the weak, stricken with defenseless orphanhood.

In vain he tried to free himself from the majestic, prestigious university, because of his excessive education and humanistic attitude, he was advised against it, just so that he would not have to get a diploma cuma sum laude. In vain he tried to get a job in the painful interviews that increased hemorrhoidal spasms, he could hardly get a paid job.

No matter how much he tried to free himself with human-smelling, melodious handshakes and convincing promises, he was immediately ******* in a knot, like the convicts suffering from innocence, no matter how much he tried to finally escape this unfair, vile, compromising earthly existence, the secret Morse echo effect symbolizing the connection was forever cut off halfway between the railway tracks!

My friend, you better realize: if you want real gems, just look into the superstitious eyes of your Beloved, shining like real pearls, to find the eternal one-answers in the Morse code of immortal love and the Universe. Striding on the traces of Being, defying many millions of obstacles - perhaps -, only the two of you are a unified whole, because you constantly need to gain strength in confidence and blind luck-hope that wants to be renewed.

Your little people, ordinary things are not as clear as you think; some sufficiently clumsy, gibberish word-plurality has been welded together from the clumsy coordinates of repetitive, boringly repeated sets of ideas; why can't the endless night shift combined with reasoning lead anywhere?! - It seems that our constantly busy mind is already grinding away at the often uncontrollable fateful events without them. Why do you always feel that thinking rationally and logically is just vain self-deception?!

Losing your patience, giving up your ant-like diligence in a manipulable and bargain-bound way, you can increasingly recognize yourself in the series of superficial, slimy exhibitionist jokes that the infected tabloid media throws at you with understanding patience every second.

My friend! Unfortunately, be careful! We have become damaged, amputated savages, and only half-human wrecks, who have been deceived a lot, and I believe have been led astray in their gullibility. Your vulnerable heart can no longer ache only in a separate purple petal-shell, if you ask it nicely not to bleed in its aching pain. - The romantic, happier idyll, the illusion-appearance, has become a disguised fugitive. Bosch could not have painted it as a more inspired hellish, underworldly vision!

I have no idea to tell you the vault of your beautifully curved cherry lips, or just the petrified, chilled solitude of my bed? I don't know if I should tell you about the loneliness of the empty bunch of flesh that once threw mightily at the glances of heaven, at the words of flirtatious angel eyes, - yes, when the delicate vibration of the Spirit opened the bouquets of flowers,

and the blessed conscience also responded with tremor, devotion, faithfulness, and selflessness! - We marvel at the disappointing present: What did we do together in a storm of passions was only an edited draft of our disappointed unhappiness? - In the end, the same thing always pulls and strings, taking care of our heartbeats in spacious handcuffs when I daydream

about you to shake off the snares of my dreadful nightmares permanently you no longer pay attention to me: If you sacrifice to someone else with the fidelity of kisses I stubbornly, I waver! An overly hasty year is coming again, with our idyllic daydreams - maybe the wire-spike of our disappointment will still embrace us. And I know not what I may say, that I may pray with thy feet.

what would I whisper as a confession to your wounded eardrum, gently into the purple-vaulted vault of your lips. In exile of pain, it would be good to hold on to the teeth of the universe for sure, permanently and to feel the balm touch of your dark and drained amber hair with harmony. It would be good to know

that your immortal laughter, there was no fault in your elf patience as I groped for your sparkling light every single day, and I would have your wishes as blind moles.

In the folds of the crypt chain of your face, the invisible moves with you and Time is getting old! The exaggerated eyes of selfish people don’t take the point either: a real victim of vile dream image weights; how can a sausage fence be fenced on the porches of possible appearances And the eternal second fiddlers are already ahead of the winners! - Initially, a cat-and-mouse resists the dictated formulas of Time Changes that Measure Existence with trying competition, and the no-escape gift of the vicious circle is knocking headless over our heads!
 
Constant depth and sudden height embody the zigzag of cheap, easily cracking ladders of beaten careers! As one who has already deliberately become familiar with himself in the Secret of Death, he can only confess himself to himself now in all confessions! “Inaccurate, restless accelerating Hopes for Life can gradually erase our past memories that we all clung to together! So it's not good to mix with squeaky mass misery! A creative-active personality should not be allowed to be ****** in by crowded stagnation!
 
On its own, it often uses more when we walk than matured autumn-leafed, silent trees! What pattern can we use to achieve the desired consciousness of happiness?! As a ragged clay man, we force several pseudo-personalities at once out of compulsion on ourselves; our crawling selves will all be on a leash! We should treat everything with a protesting self in a friendly way! The stubborn denial of our slashing selfishness still increases our lack of self-confidence! Why is there always a smell of threat that is consciously unknown?! The final destruction can be felt bone-penetrating

The Spoken Reality

You should learn, you finally understand: The unattainable idyllic life for laurels rarely brings you! - The sizzling music of handsome, flirtatious lips clicked on your face like good-natured slaps, and you could only hope and hope - in the end you could only watch in annihilated way: Seductive lovers, Lady-Jews could be exploited, used - finally you were a disposable toy! You have not yet grown a laurel in burning beautifully curved kisses - you could only be one of many:

Youth, foolishness with its pregnant responsibilities bears itself! How many times have you tried to study the wandering map of unknown blood labyrinths in heartbeats that have been deciphered? But in vain! "You can't understand the secret of words, your struggle with hurricanes of complicated desires, inexperienced son-in-law!"

The emotion may have remained an immortal and unattainable torso: Though broken, but you tried to love with full conscience - see if they would reciprocate: You were the only Don Quixote who could be pushed to the ground among liar *******, dizzying skirts! "With a battered-worn briefcase, like a sad, melancholy chronicler of tiring thoughts, you carried a load of paper-smelling milestones of cultures laden — if you still have some money left!"

You have long guessed the Truth, to confess you are still helpless and molasses, and a coward for yourself: Only one who can be happy with himself is able to believe the all-embracing Prometheus hope that embraces everything. Who is meaningless and useless in spite of voices

he struggles and does his things more and more, and with his ancestral, contagious selfishness he settles down forever, in the manner of murderers, and he absolutely believes in his own Truths - keeping possible, changeable versions of individual opinion!
It should finally be said: Do not lie, but it is imperative that, if necessary, the seeing Eye proclaims relentless Truths, and be incapable of cherished, sometimes relieving lies, even when the spoken Reality causes wounded pain!

Loyalty, though true, still sneers at his selfish sins, but does not share his greedy thirst. Fountain predators swallow each other devouring; the best quality silicone insert seems to be expanding in the expectation of a luxury carpentry environment. Team-hijacking, beast-starving bikini fairy. Severely flashing killer, knife-grin. Wider designed stage acoustics. Standing in group rings of reliable, gorilla biceps, bull-necked Adonis patches, it becomes increasingly difficult to resist any temptation.

Gigantic sized, cosmic bust would be the best talk of the decade ?! "A lost, tiny, star-studded planet is bending out of its devastated Dwarf Wheel of slender nights." dreaded, small-minded "some" think of their bulimic, ballerina-slenderness, because they can only know for sure, and that is the only way to prevail. - Would it be a sacrilege to address a true angel with a romantic bow, kneeling ?!

Even as dawn creatures enter the Order's circles at dawn, they are still inaccessible to outsiders. Turning back from the sacred altars of romance, even self-proclaimed existence is just one well-defined bubble fragment. As incomplete etchings, sooner or later everyone will be knocked out of the Wheel of Time dedicated to infinity!

A person's feet often stick out of every box they have picked up. Because people keep interfering in their lives - no matter how much they deny it -. Everyone has been burned many times by the frivolous, nagging, grotesque, hopeless Reality. It would be nice to hope even in the multitude of non-existent things, if that is all it takes for a person to start a new life, which - exceptionally - still has and can have value and meaning.

We have now become a little fed up with the fact that we have always inherited useless sermons and good-sounding hymns of praise from those who were in power at the time; The habit of being mean and sneaky really radically, oppressively settles on our already difficult, stuffy lives, like most of the slimy, slippery promises, with which the brainwashed, and therefore unsuspecting, average person can be lured in.

In the restless workshop of our lives, there is less and less room for the arrival of Universal loves, for a few eternal truer friends who brought salami bread and cinnamon milk gruel during the bitter cold; there are fewer and fewer four or five doors in this world where the prodigal, weak person can knock calmly, even at night or at dawn, because they are welcomed with welcoming love and even seated at the table without a whimper.

Everyone is a bit like the suffering superiority of those with a painful stomach ache, who already sense in advance and know what will happen unexpectedly, and they deliberately look down on those who try or those who get a foothold, just because they did not get it from the abundant interests and networks of patronage relationships. We can no longer be completely satisfied and generous with people who are confident in their superiority and who are perfectly satisfied with themselves, as they increasingly exhibit increasingly suspicious and calculating behavior, at least on the surface!

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!

It would be good to extend our arms towards each other a little more nobly, more dignifiedly, so that we can guard the silence that longs to open in each other; halfway between the stigmata of bodies, to touch the slaps that have become unworthy, the petty formations of bandages and scars. Because the surprised Being betrays its own hidden Apocryphal essences, its calculating secrets, at almost every age.

We do not know where the budding love morning flees from us with its broken wings, when everything still seems so clear and simple. Sooner or later – we do not even notice it – the innocent, orphaned child in us always denies itself first, and only later the adult who seems absolute, presenting himself as a victim. Because when evil, manipulative, calculating things and connections arise above our heads, it is as if others were already writing the rules of our Fate for us.

– Conscience – no matter how much we want it – now only protects us formally, like most of the official but burnable documents that the historical era has entrusted to us as witnesses. Even now, it seems that slimy, sticky dirt and secretions stick to it from hand to hand; so wash your useless, crusty hands with baby soap several times; do not accept easily received alms! All thieves, idle jerks and fools, Pilate's hand-washers of compromises, who sold themselves with a calm heart, because they knew that otherwise, those who got stuck here could not prevail.

The cosmic sovereignty of the universes is the brilliance of the pearly holy stars. At heart, you are afraid first, and then echo blasts are frightened, scared - in every missed blast, we ourselves measure the sinful time-minutes. Pisly-moon moonshine conceivably turns into starving, round cheese, and the oblivious, mowing-to-darkness watches over its petty victims left unprotected with vigilance. Dark night birds still stuttering, waving quietly ...

The autumnal loneliness of tree leaves, even the well-deserved, intermediate state; Nirvana-nothing is contemplated in the annual rings of nature: beetles, animals, living fauna. - Many more forgettable, questionable questions and aggressive question marks; Létkatharizs bleeds itself into rose-toothed dawn. The raging dawn, like a wounded red blotch, gives way to a bolero tune.

Gnashing of teeth, re-established, **** sermons on the gaping paths of aging wakefulness! In the depths of our vulnerable souls, we carry the annihilated orphan, the vulnerable child, in the same way! We are already deliberately holding our children's ears so that we cannot hear the curses of ferocious, absolute adults, their everyday, shameful betrayals! A single, tiny word of sparks, a nasty, sighed thought, and everyone already felt and knew: the conspiracy of exclaimed wise men dried on lips sewn like a supplication! Even crying-eyed silence is telling less and less! Among his aching self-pain, he himself freezes into stone, and as a afflicted Sisyphus he can no longer guess, his vastly buffalo-heavy stone blocks will have to be carried by him all the time!
 
You can no longer stand out in the world, and you can hardly survive: everyone is just emphasizing themselves, the other self looks like superficial face shop windows! Harmony, as a light, mundane sedative, cannot serve as a cure for the restless who have been slapped on the head! A squeaking subconscious half-dream attracts me, and embracing it with understanding love, if I let the unpredictable, mischievous things happen! Behind the inner walls of personality, the roaring, quarreling outside world is still purring! The cracked shadow spots of curved mirrors are deepened by magpies under superstitious eyes, minute-grooves! Even in their daily robot life, we fall from the top down to the swirling depths and we want to cling strongly to the angelic greetings that can be realized even on earth!
 
The perceptual intellect gradually turns back into itself! The metamorphosis formula of an imagined dream can only succeed together

Just because my secret electricity turned into a scorching passion in me alone, there could have been something unspeakable, tangible Extra, plus things between us, that could have repaired the fuses of my burned-out heart! In the secret courtyard of charred keys, where rampant cell division was always present, all throbbing connections were suddenly broken, irreparably damaged!

We didn’t know what to do with him, and we didn’t learn to treat him fairly just because
we meditated in the unconsciousness of the immortal minutes, and we wandered for a long time, and in our relationship, which can be called by name, at most only one of us is here! - Yet the meaningful time spent with Him became an important and indelible part of my existence!

- Behind the gazes of heaven, he was greeted with a laughing smile whenever he could, if he was not squeezed into foolish conditions, compulsions to meet others: When he could only be himself! It was a garden of wildflowers, pregnant and full of the scents of Eden!

And I couldn’t go after him in the alleys of everyday life weaving tragedies. "Today, surely the sublime happiness of the Universe is his." The future of a caring-hearted mother. But do you still think of the times when for a few moments only He was the center of the world, and loving troubadours, zealous Adonis, as loyal lollipops, sought hard-won graces through struggles and struggles, while only one of the overbearing ranks, just kneel in front of him?

On the island of Rhodes, the tearing rocks drown in sinful foams. In clear weather, Turkey is proud to see its shores from here. Here, the dazzling blue sky is an accomplice to the sea, allied with his crested foam lover. Where crusaders once rested on holiday during their tumultuous journeys, today the researching, observant, zealous tourist finds trembling, yawning ruins with the victories of the past.
Here you will find houses built of snow-white stone, glowing in sixty degrees of air - if you do not take care of yourself, it will easily be grilled in just a few minutes: Here people relax in the harmonies of tranquility, filled with well-being! A reed-year-old sea-stubble hardened by a reed emerges if one were to head for cooling foams: Bulls and cows are even found in the marital idyll of the busy, prey-hunting dogs.

The island of the god Helios, like a giant Cyclops palm, carefully opens its arms in front of a tired traveler: This rainbow snail-home home of various noble stones is this island allied with the vast sea!

The unattainable dreams of life all multiply here, in one place on the shore. Here the boldly and modestly expanding air castles collapse quickly and quickly; a rare treasure, few decent people nowadays own Diligence: An estimated rare white raven property.

Bikini bombers - as they say nymphs flirt. Flaming insatiable and greedy male hearts around you! Here, the concept of crowding and intrusive twitching is still unknown: the possibility of peaceful coexistence shines in the hearts of those who live in harmony. Yet soul-filling, proud, Greek shores must be abandoned: Homesickness and the motherland have receded with its huge magnetic claws!

The formation of Golgotha-Nobody, who lives in the shadow walls of human lives, is growing! In negligible realities, the dream time that can be won is also running out! I would welcome the Shadow Petals that openly reveal themselves with empathy! Until you can reach everyone with its waves of true pearls, the pearly, sacred streams of redemptive crying, the momentary, tiny spark of truth is hardly authentic! Heart gates hidden hidden in the cage of ribs can open, but only who is worth it! Then the humble, alumous silence of the subconscious is torn apart: in me, the living myth of your astonished, childish curiosity still unfolds its magic flowers in the nests of eye-stars inside!
 
It is less and less possible to believe in happy promises with a good sense! When can they already notice the vulnerable, human prayer in the hearts flying embers, which he would beg for refuge for help?! - In selfish hermitage, permanent testimonies of manuscripts were deliberately exiled; which you should have been really proud of and satisfied with! Self-overwhelming, outlying big cities are more solemnly drowning than planting trees! The donkey degeneration of the future is devouring itself; multipopultural thief-slang fish bag with poison spit!
 
This now tattered, lousy Age dreams of appearance well-being, and even the housekeeper can keep order and sweep up the rubble of unusable waste materials! Testosterone titans kneaded in the Phantom-Atlantis world are only for grumpy, bikini fairy blues; barbaric idiocy occupies a living space and treats the nights of first dates as an ancient insult! "The affirmative Life Panic is in short supply in itself!"

Sit for a while and listen carefully! Listen, as if the overwhelming weight of our spoken words is decided by snowmen before the verdict, and our heartbeats sound like gunshots! Because there is a need for someone who, by paying attention, recognizes and understands the stifling vulnerability! I need someone who, instead of the chirps of the outside world cirada: he feels with the roar of interiors, remorse,

and protect, comfort! "Just sit still, at least for a fleeting moment: Instead of those who, due to their remorseful hot-headedness, were all running away and not looking back!" Those who all laughed at you in a despicable way, with a gala giggle, and now are grieving at their own pathetic misery! - Sometimes you don't ask or talk, because often the meaning of words is secretly lost when you listen to the Heart!

Maybe if we mix humiliated old age into our dark hair, you might be wiser, and maybe you’ll understand better! The problem with emotions is that they change faster and change faster than the weather - the faded, idyllic image comes to mind - and all we can do is try to find favorable places -
Although there is not a single, short iris life for this! - Just sit for a while and listen! My boredom is to believe only you will be filled with metaphors of tolerable content, and you will be set as a target if you miss the opportunity to fill all the essentials in order to live completely and whole! His bad and unfortunate cards were deliberately shuffled by Fate,

your business: Avoid the intrigues of fate, travel forward on safe roads - and only risk the tangible - if there is still cover!

Be very careful, because from your birth you can be only one of you at the gate of the Universe, where beating hearts confess their immortal oath as a sacred vow. Because you are a speck of dust in the vision-illusion of mortality and you would do better if you now mentally go through every minute of your pitiful, petty life, because maybe it will be too late when the Wheel of Fate comes to you. You would say: it would be better to finally bury every single sorrow of 40 annoying, sly years, every single spiritual wound that can be challenged, refuted - yet the memory that ponders the past increasingly prompts you to speak demandingly.

Your restless, restless Ulyssesian confusion, in the catatonies of initial apparent madness, your restless buzzing soul, that you. Those on whom I could once count and upon whom you could build your shaky, suspicious trust are no longer with you. Even today, you would rather live with the solidified point-candles of your memory than forget where you came from and where you went back then, when you could believe that man was noble and good.

You deliberately did not play a bold gamble, wanting to flirt with your fate; but what sense could there have been, when now the reward of fine words, promises and truths is possessed by usurping geneviers as a kind of intermediate laurel?! The yew-flower wings of your dreams will slowly fall into the sweet-sad darkness of oblivion if you do not take care to palliate and maintain your Alzheimer's brain with memory exercises.

– The pressure already gathered in your brain coils in many forms, like a network of secret arteries, gathers the instincts and methods of action for you, you just need to learn to listen to the rumbling voice of your inner echoes in a worthy way!

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

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

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

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

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

I didn't get smarter or braver! - Crying hysterical despair continues to shake the structure of my body - if I suddenly move, I dare to cry alone in the tearful captivity of Turkish and shower roses! The world is still resisting with gnarled ideas and in vain I want to be independent of the mind - to liberate the obligatory conventions of society - It is not possible!

For the honest man also picks up the breadwinner in his day and is broken after eight or ten casual working hours, on the altar of his own vulnerability! Shiny glass ***** appear as indelible shadows in your eyes; planet-sized tears. "He is looking for helpless self-pity, groping for a way out, and no matter how hard he tries to find mercy, he can't find it!"

We are hesitantly wondering who will be forced out of our comfortable, protective beds with the whips of duty at five o'clock in the morning as convicts! If we look at the bottom of mirrors: Our self-pity also spits in our eyes, our pride goes into our eyes! - It flows like dirt inside us, and we ask ourselves out loud ironically:

"That's all we could do ?!" "And we push the child half an onion, bird-watching food as a gift of grace," the shame stamp has been tattooed on our bitter face: If we don't take care of the missing bills, majestic overhead-piles can sweep away our house!

And we feel in ourselves that the honor of our work has been lost today because Man forgot to find something in himself and maybe rediscover it: If all efforts, struggles and wills enrich the yellow earth...

My dad stands in the net of uncertainty, looks down like a long-lived, experienced and timed man, dare to face his young face with a werewolf - my father is entangled in the net of uncertainty:

I see the ramparts of rich heights of porthole, their trembling, gray hedges, and teach with a stubborn mood the eternally unbridled, natural lesson: "Do not give yourself!" - The dogs' chorus of chants yell in the roaring sounds of the street - that I flee and bounce back in a panel vack unless I see them! Bloods are laughing freely, as executioners, as four-footed perils! - My dad's not fine! Asthmatic seizures, hurricane oxygen deficiencies stifle your bushy lungs with suffocation! The doctors liked to try their patience with the patience of the patient, as a kind-hearted prisoner!

The crouching back of the humpback mountains - across the horizon, even a bouncing whip: Lightning-knife zigzag, female twilight wheat kisses the sun's rays. Tomorrow, there will be new trials: Either you bow as an obedient willor, or you will stand as a convicted man, to play with you cheaply and as a rag!

Carefully, there is an ore-ring from the depths of the valley captivity - My father is trapped in a web of insecurity, has become more and more difficult to move, and has a well-developed but still zingara body. No calling, no gesture, just long throats, grumbling sound tapes - With the final countdown begun at Man's birth, he borrows to death! Maybe my dad is bitter, slowly, and like the raw lemon

Like a time bomb cogwheel, every nerve-string in your brain seems to tense up when Existence raises new barriers against you, you run into petty, petty, calculating rejections; through the tiny, almost insignificant gaps of everyday life that have become one, we still peek out curiously and vigilantly, hoping that some organization that is advertised as a charity will provide you with some kind of cheap, free charity. Existence is still - in vain you would deny it - hibernating unwaveringly and not noticing at all when? where? Who was wrong to rightfully acknowledge its crimes and offenses.

Another Disneyland will follow - it is true - here in Central Europe, this one too, a worse, more inferior, and therefore more sloppy version. And while digitally infected Trojan horses are being sent here and there in the broad digital sphere of interest, the average person – well, they can – only turn their heads, because ultramodern technologies are incomprehensible to them, and not that clear.

It almost hurts and at the same time humiliating that your own goals, desires, and plans, like usurping Tyrants, are simultaneously towering over your head, and you are constantly 100% hooked to the core because you cannot understand how things and connections could change even three hundred and sixty-five degrees per second?! – Summer also produces hibernated obituaries in this disgustingly musty-smelling air, like when pigs roll their one and a half pound, bloated bodies in the lap of swampy mud seas, just because they feel like it.

And while summer opening hours – in many places – can be as late as eleven o'clock, you can hardly find any saving, cooling shade in the forest of immense concrete slab cages.

Skeleton-armed trees threw a dagger at seeing it cringe! Wall-to-wall! Seeing that he had touched the World as a fallen blind spot; unexpectedly a shard-tiled tile enters its mirrors and hangs on the edges of Being! On Golgotha nights behind the eyes, you don’t know when the guards can come hand in hand with the Watchers! On their foreheads there shines the ticket of the human desire for the ceaseless right! The invited Death grabs us when all living things are undressed and the ash-swallow bodies of skulls fading in empty eye rolls are soulless! He fell to the ground in a split space, dug into a hut and returned!
 
Because every vision deteriorates into the fog if we don’t pay enough attention to its voices! They speak for you from the ******* of Wounded Time; as a mortal, your naked loneliness is better accustomed to; perhaps even the immortal Universe can be destroyed at any time if the pulsating heart-petals are trampled! "Now the sobered Indifference is breathing and living on our worn-out, prostituted allegiances are no longer ours!" Our little boy's orphanage is constantly calling home as homesickness! We became prey on a cheap, otherworldly feast - we wander among ghostly summoned orphans!
 
We do not yet know who will return to our lives with love? "We already live there behind all the things that can be challenged, our silence is swallowing up dumplings of silence, even the Silence of Times carries signs on you;" your every day is more treacherous and more liar than your nights! People’s pride hides stigma wounds on your face every day and they don’t see how important sincere Friendship would be if they looked behind your mask! - The Savior closes the Dear radiance behind my lashes

There, in the chapel rising on the small hill, where perhaps two people could barely fit, when you were brought in a carriage pulled by two apple-colored Pegasus horses; where a few diligent, busy women's hands gathered a feverish forest of flower bouquets, a rainbow flood of tired daisies strangled in wreaths - yes! There the blissful, redeeming yeses should have been said, which could only really mean something to us, since they reserved the Everything with a holy oath.

Then there should have been will, devotion, a beautifying dream - which at the same time eagerly nourishes, consumes, but nourishes - with which two beating hearts in love can finally belong to each other. You should have escaped a little while, when you did not let your snow-white voluminous veil fall to dust, with your moon-silver tiara, and a loyal protection, a protective harmony accompanying you throughout your life, which says in your superstitious doe eyes: "I have chosen you as my companion!"

- You should have arranged - only with a common will - the secret desires of immortal Fates, so that even the one-Beloved could be absolutely sure of his/her business, and doubt, suspicion, deceived temptation could not even fearlessly break the predestined bond of togetherness.

We would have clung to the plane with gazelle-like leaps, so that then on a half-uninhabited subtropical, paradise island, on a snow-white sand bed, in front of the sun's disc that wanted to set, we would have sworn in our hearts that we were beating: True, Good, Noble, so that the ragged life would take note two human, earthly stars, whatever happens, poverty or wealth, two immortal Universe-souls, now united until the end of time.

– The true word that resides in the deepest part of the heart should have been spoken as if it were the last one to be spoken here on earth: ,,If you really love, then neither Porsche, Ferrari, nor a fancy bag costing half a million, nor a castle on duck legs matters, because you feel that it is better to belong to someone than to just be floundering here and there like a luxury item for the seventh time in a lifetime.

Your children, later your grandchildren, will throw our loving instinct-egoisms at your eyes in vain; you can cry through a shower of abundant fountain pearls for an eternity, because you were a compromiser, a bargain-maker and maybe even a little coward, because you gave in to the predictable alluring power of prosperity and wealth. – Long, difficult At the end of our journeys, perhaps we will meet again, and then I will make your once golden, loving heart confess to you!

How ungodly is this land that wildly Hyena's footprint Angel can barely enter ?! The inner soul-night falls to ashes, the pain sizzling into your soul screams! Because the moment thickens to an explosion; every barren Face is another cunning mirror from which we can fall out of our dreams! Those who can guess the plague of the Jackal of others can be fooled to run! Teasing the columns of light, the pathetic Giants of Indifference spit on the Present! Cosmos-space homestead in broken hearts as the only guest!
 
The one who sets out on the essential path behind mirrors wanders with a cherub face to see what really matters! - The breath of unavoidable questions obscures you! - Maybe Love is a hand grenade ?! The nuclei of the Universe unite in volcanic eruptions in superstitious moments! The tunnel is torn through the moonlight by lasting fear! Man, the eternal One-Inventor, bleeds in performance on angry scales! Existence: A recurring, flawless mistake that can be made many times?
 
And who makes more, more harmful mistakes ?! No one can protect you! Is that why I opened the borders of my palms ?! - Out there now knocking on closed-door societies you want to seek refuge! "Rings of the year on me and angelic shell-hahota!" - Vigilance over commonplace issues; desert sand has been thirsty forever! We call Death to ourselves in different forms every day; a proud and delicate game that can eat even raw meat and is constantly swallowing!
 
Only the sure, calculated End who doesn't run away from it can understand! "Time always vomits in its own fright - that's why I may be scared every day of the ghosts of my selfish shadow!

Maybe I’ve been disgusted by the Whole for a long time p to pretend to heap on jobs on our backs, for cheap labor jobs, and all of us would go there — that others work two hours loosely a day, the other twelve hours a day, and then with these: Fate-tolerant they communicate with chopstick people, with grace-chiré grace: “That’s your wage! I would crack in your seats so I could earn that much! ” - Soaking in suicidal juice of self-pity, feeling of inferiority, loss of honor

now everyone: In the minds of many, it must have turned around what if there were no more Tomorrow, sipping for cheap hunger wages! "And there is no one under the dehumanized sky who preaches, 'Humanity to the son and daughters of man!' - You are boring: In your diminished moral mind you are ungrateful s

useless, you can only be discouraged when it comes to Truth and honesty, while you yourself have long since escaped the balance of tomorrow, on which your conscience will be measured, and how will you be, and by what methods have you been able to survive and tolerate?

- Perhaps it is better if a person is exalted or spit only after the moment of his death, and thus at least as long as his Vulnerability and Vulnerability is spared in his life, The worst fact: Man, leaving everything behind, without his favorite poems, going to the ground with the nakedness of Adam, and then the big Nothing moves to its place in a temporary framework!

A heart that beats for others deserves better than an empty, cold apartment. The broom of painted swallowtail eyelashes is a transparent exhibitionist curtain, where all essence is lost, because they let the echo drops of the soul be lost. Man no longer has great world-saving goals, only to finally reach a heart line identical with his split subconscious self. A beautiful supermodel-bomber is hardly noticeable, because the exaggerated body culture, the health mania, destroys and infects the levels of the Soul.

A skinned leopard fur coat - despite being an unaffordable luxury item - regularly exudes an unbearable stench; and while a manipulator is calculating with manipulative, deceitful methods, maybe he can have the biggest scam of the decade – average guys who are considered losers and suckers jump into the Danube as an internal consideration.

They are scattered around, as if their long-lost bohemian-dwelling eternal friends were mourning their second youth. A buzzing insect-circle dance – nowadays, this is all that the gigantic, principled treadmill of everyday life can be worth, because work never comes to the house voluntarily, that is the sole privilege of the big dogs and sharks; because everyone would rather look for the invisible, sure way out, while they can, hopes, stubborn illusions, foolish beliefs turn into frozen falls.

On the discarded, serviced street of Time, like occasional drunks, they stumble half-blindly one after another, the petty-murderous humiliations instilled over decades, the humility tolerated, the chasms towards which honesty and truth rush at once, since it may seem impossible to do anything with the Present!

I keep turning back through the pages of my life's codex; memories, shadows of the past, even the persistent, tenacious deep layer, the poor pimples of annual rings still hint at a recurring ominous omen for my otherwise shipwrecked Robinson Crusoe life. The weight of crystal memories almost crushes me, even though I was no more sinful, foolish, or wasteful than the rest - a kind face, a good deal of good mood, unexpectedly comes to mind, because I often gain more truth from the reflections of talkative faces than from the cavernous depths of soiled, muddied souls.

In petrified depths, along with adverse trials, a few more eloquent sermons bubble up: "My dear friend! Why is this useless, worn-out life of yours not good for you?! It's true! Your bills and utilities are still in order, and even though you haven't bought yourself a new jacket, Lewis jeans, or elegant Italian leatherette shoes in ten or so years, you can still wait a long time for that sparkling toothpaste commercial smile.

Why do you behave like an orphaned light flickering in the darkness of the night, which deliberately prefers to hide its petty, selfish secrets and only glows from the inside?!" Your human attitude seems to last only for seconds, because at the same time you are attracted, but at the same time you are repelled by the sluggish, cynical indifference with massive awareness, the millennial principle of our time, since nothing changes, Existence can only seem more and more unbearable.

- A duel of spirits could not be easier, especially if the wise science of arguing is banned within radical frameworks by knowledgeable smart tonics, because they are truly terrified of the power of innovative creative thoughts and ideals. Your naive-childish, eternal Sisyphean worries and exploitability are now being played with by jerks and fools, while they splash pathetic, petty words at you halfway; be careful! It's not too late!

Don't Shed your viscerally restless life! Because you would like to reach there yourself in a worthy way, where joy and satisfaction await, and not the hustle and bustle of everyday robot work! And how good it would be there, arm in arm with your Beloved, to write the laws of the Universe in the sand!

The Infinite cries, moans, hurts in me; there can be all suffering because the Present is pregnant with eternity! The Flame also believes in pain when it is in labor! How will the fate of the Individual continue to develop in the desolate mischief of the Komos in the expelled space ?! - A junk camp of grim illusions is fighting over our heads! It is devoured because we feel the behemoth in all their members at night! The career desire of the blinding Celeb-Beauties seems to be grasped in this present age, and any collagenized peony can be a presenter!
 
The Indifference described to boredom and the sponge-like **** in human heads became complete; the unrecognizable will-gates closed and the Night was complete! The tomb of Orpheus is dead in Time, and the tiny soul of the Universe can no longer cross the human ocean! Scattered Pile of Ruins In time, human benevolence also descended into insidious souls! Everything can only fall apart on this expanding bullet; the thinking Logos spark fades away and the tuna is threatened with a supernova explosion Stupidity!
 
All dreams of clinging deep to the rose finger of redemptive dawn; prevent possible floating with a practiced routine! In vain would gravity pull the Man down! A gaping vortex will lead you to temptation and you will not be able to free the inner night in itself to create its finishing silence! Hanging on hidden stars, Hope sighs! "Perhaps I am still laboring because in the depths of my wounded heart, Death from heart attacks always knocks!" I would still be looking for a solid point, which would certainly reassure me with a drop of self-confidence and courage; the yolk of the glittering burst of light flows s in the lap of the trenches of galaxies the yawning moon crunches…