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!

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

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

The sound of murderous silence can already be heard in our crooked minds. Shadow-struck landscapes, peninsula debris wander all night in us and are increasingly addressed in our inner selves! Our hidden, petty secrets cannot be uttered by the essence of cheap, flattering words: the romance of our desires could be felt better and a whole, meaningful human life could be traversed in the star myriads of our saddened dreams! Wounded souls interrogating themselves along the streets of Time roam like goal-lost ghosts; with numbing consciousness they would expect dissolution from superstitious kisses and the immortal pleasures of the metamorphoses of the Universe!
 
Enlightened consciousness is crystal clear to ourselves. In the subconscious of beating hearts, why are we afraid of a trembling flow of dreadful responses? We would be happy to put down the burden of our Sisyphean existence many times with pleasure so that the clutches of our endless orphanage that are bound together can be dissolved! "I'm getting more and more ominous torment at the expense of my days!" His tormented petals would still be cherished by the half-nailed soul; ringing a call for help selfish-calculating profiteers!
 
The safe havens of consciousness are still marred by doubts! Due to human mortality, another sadistic Judas is being created. In the washed-out parallel of the world, ordas-chaos wolf-blinds echo like threatening barkings! - The daily bread of our betrayals is spreading: because it is seldom anything else that the self-prostituting, treacherous age can do! Dreaming, I am still waiting for the redemptive romance, if my despair comforts me with new hopes! I am often ashamed to see his loyal lovers swapped by an exotic nymph!

When a proud night of star-studded panther-like hibernation, waking a comic patient on my nicely cast bed, like a whispering cry of daylight over my head. As a lunatic attacking lunatic beast, I am struck by the fierce vulture fear. Under my bones in the basket of my ribs, my weak heart continues to writhe, the hunter's night wounds.

My nightmare captures my tears in captivity. Oh, what a fateful battle you have, dear human soul! I would run into caressing mother's lap. Blessed be my dear twirling, my bald curls, - but the night's karma is dumb, murderous; as a wounded knife wounds ...

The dusky liquid stream of lunar lobes stops me like spikes of sparks. Chopped up, even human wrecks, the broken life of mass despair. Whispers, an innocent little boy whines in me. A distant, romantic memory can only be hard to understand by my crooked, rotating mind.

I'll throw away my pain-drenched agony once. Let's go and leave me forever! - As the night passed, the delicate golden rays of dawn dawn, like a redeeming Angel's hand, re-emerged from the beating heart ...

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

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

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

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

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

Your deliberately lazy sloth dreams didn’t come true! Your shiny crystal legends have also been shattered! It would have been nice for Someone to be able to enter through your narrow, closed doors on a selfless donor and grab the pulsating beats of the golden heart of your two hands by grabbing them! The dense Blood of the Universe of your minutes could have flared up many more times - but you selfishly-stubbornly only wanted the True! Even a light-hearted Angel spell could have come to your chilled barking!
 
Your trembling, konok soul would cling to the gaze of another dazzling human Star and cling to the cravings of helpless promises — you can't do anything else! You shape the material in your soft soul into a firmer, more lasting will - and you still stop and think about your fateful decisions! "After your years, you don't make a point, because you feel around forty - maybe - a flirtatious Death can be on you and bombard you with a heart attack!"
 
The imaginary fairy face of Happiness can't open for you! And you couldn’t fall over, crying rhymingly at the gaze-sharing precious-carat eyes! You couldn't stretch your mind in the Forest of Love you found yet! You had to fool around on a stumbling block - and you still couldn't tune your little boy's soul to Hope, who could trust himself! All of you have been betrayed by the pride of your existence, and the proud hope of an imaginary rainbow smile has ruined everything!
 
You can cling less and less to shaky promises — you know, yourself; you wanted to exist and survive in the depths of hearts throbbing like a hiding silence! Don't give up on the Clown Fool of Love as long as you just look around smiling and there can always be Someone you can cling to!

With their loose, jerky-hick performance movements, centaur terminators, well-molded by testosterone, are regularly galloping into their brand-new Ferraris, especially on Andrássy Avenue. A teenage lady wearing a deliberately provocative and transparent cocktail dress also offers predatory prey, who wants to be an adult at any cost, so that later she can easily assert herself even without an advanced level of maturity.

Horse pounding - nothing more - is now left for the carefree, pitiful lazy-indifferent posterity. In the distance, you can still see a cut-off Van Gogh sunflower head caught in hesitation, which exotic women no longer wear in their hair.

The witch's kitchen of meaningless promises and petty bargains stuffed into pockets that are starting to leak can hardly be enough for the simple average person to understand this two-faced, superficial era. And while some jury members start to publicly blatantly complain that it would be a good idea to save some journals as dubious intellectual products, so that primarily the ancients, and not the young people of the next donkey generations who are considered talented, can publish - the busy, slightly stupid wild geese are already getting into shape, and they can hardly wait to lick their ***** to a mirror shine.

Sooner or later, even the lives of swindlers shrink into dubious ends, just like the remnants of most superficial, posh glitter; because now the good friend walks with spring knives just like the old or occasional enemy. It is impossible to know what a piercing, deliberately suspicious eye, flashing from behind closed shutters or blinds, is thinking?! On the razor-sharp tracks of express trains that are constantly late or never arrive, the harsh judgments of false witnesses and prodigal children are still increasingly felt...

Accelerated, dynamic life is now forced to take on new and newer figures; Development or even modernization - in many cases - is going to go or one another. The self -evident, saying visceral truth, may not exist anymore, at most, there are only shame spots, which, as a small -style, pathetic army of feces, cover mainly the averages of a shipwreck.

Return attempts also learn a new destination, as they have long realized that it would be an indifferent irresponsibility to do anything else; Because utility is certainly demanding the quota of Mihasna.

Here we live in the holy rust -hobbered, rotten rust, where in most cases - almost everyone is betrayed, betrayed, sells, feni to their own teeth, if they want to participate in the negotiations, Armani's suit, Hugo Boss neck scarf and some Prada bags.

Because nowadays there is a smile break and blindness here in total brainwashing, and the average minority man is uneasy as if he were vaccinated on the sediment; And because every mall has a real squirrel circle for four -time design, devalued commodities, which, for the sake of diversity, were more cheap in China, and then came here, and while Pakson is deceived by a nuclear reactor heater. In the meantime, imported hybrid models are operated with cheap alkaline element actions manufactured in battery factories to see if gasoline is not expensive again.

The stupid luxury of souls will be realized once in a lease, but in the meantime, these few people would have to be assigned and cut!

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

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

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

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

A single superstitious deer can fit an entire human life! A star shining like a glory in the darkness left alone! The humanity of moments pierces into enchanting gazes and argues with immortal Love! We see tiny swan ducks appear in the silent future, and certainty stretches between trembling lips: a talkative army of faces rushes through the tactile fabric of Time! Already all of them are bragging! It jeopardizes every request and every sequel! Falling always leads close to ourselves! Tons of heavy loads sit on our shoulders; our urgent years just don’t rest!
 
The Memory will also be an endless, silent caravan if the given minute calls! Peeping, finite lines are rearranged into the Arc s with Time-intersecting folds! Everyone can be a child-adult again if they don’t know the rules of survival! Hurricanes of fate come together and always come back! The invisible Truth culminates with true tears! - In the superstitious mirror of eyes, when all the illuminating, proud flames go out, deep-water mud peaks! Crowded madness washes away the interests of the worldly sensation! Man can be tired if he is vulnerable soon!
 
I am embraced by myself, human law, and it does not leak - crushed into colors, retained Promises my confidence and tomorrow! I still have to face recurring, threatening days anyway; the eternal friendship can still keep a vigilant separation from Being! In immortal throbbing sighs, it would still be good to believe hopefully; aloof, for human luck if you can boldly turn your back! Smile: a conqueror of tamed, small pleasures, can you return to the gray ordinary?!

A single superstitious deer can fit an entire human life! A star shining like a glory in the darkness left alone! The humanity of moments pierces into enchanting gazes and argues with immortal Love! We see tiny swan ducks appear in the silent future, and certainty stretches between trembling lips: a talkative army of faces rushes through the tactile fabric of Time! Already all of them are bragging! It jeopardizes every request and every sequel! Falling always leads close to ourselves! Tons of heavy loads sit on our shoulders; our urgent years just don’t rest!
 
The Memory will also be an endless, silent caravan if the given minute calls! Peeping, finite lines are rearranged into the Arc s with Time-intersecting folds! Everyone can be a child-adult again if they don’t know the rules of survival! Hurricanes of fate come together and always come back! The invisible Truth culminates with true tears! - In the superstitious mirror of eyes, when all the illuminating, proud flames go out, deep-water mud peaks! Crowded madness washes away the interests of the worldly sensation! Man can be tired if he is vulnerable soon!
 
I am embraced by myself, human law, and it does not leak - crushed into colors, retained Promises my confidence and tomorrow! I still have to face recurring, threatening days anyway; the eternal friendship can still keep a vigilant separation from Being! In immortal throbbing sighs, it would still be good to believe hopefully; aloof, for human luck if you can boldly turn your back! Smile: a conqueror of tamed, small pleasures, can you return to the gray ordinary?!

A Star stares at me with a shiver-ruthless!
A sticky, swampy light leaked from the wall of my room;
have the orphaned Gods been extinct with the survivors?!
- True pearls squeak in my eyes; it would have been better
to lock my cherished Spirit treasures in a shell of nuts or shells!
I feel that I have definitely been left to myself,
as the laws of learning survival are
not always guaranteed by the experience gained!

The wasted Time clicks faster and faster
on the yarns of Being; the earth dances the same way!
I was frightened by the awake little child:
I had to forget something that had happened to go,
to sink it, to be healthier and more confident,
and in every small part I should not have had to constantly
carry the burdens of my past Sisyphus-trying glaze!
  
I hardly could have been another Man:
yet the promise of another man can keep me in action!
Yet many, many lived, imagined instincts became role models in me;
as a one-man legion, like an imitating yet authentic actor,
a list of conscious intentions swirl in me;
broken deoxyribucleic acid would still marinate immortal Love!
We need to keep our eyes on the passing, which still deserves us!
As a denial of ourselves, none of us hopes for goals,
because greed has quenched our curiosity!
  
And the Moon dawns on us every time! Inwardly,
we are offended and vulnerable to blood clots,
while our body sheaths want to resist change;
as a decomposed pump, even the overzealous heart
robes with fidelity in our chest cage!

You can barely remember it anymore; there can hardly be a place for the wonders of the Universe in your constantly active skull! It was a balmy, scorching night and under a veil of water your body was embraced like a tender lotus flower, and the immortal melody of our craving hearts sang in a structure beating our hearts! True pearls pound a jewelry wreath into a raven’s feather hair until your twilight lips were touched by the silky dew; our opening flesh-flowers melted into each other as they trembled to a beat; in the fountains of hidden musical lagoons, the raging destruction was so good: immediate rebirth followed!
 
Your flowering flaming body danced rhythmically, and in the immortal drift of each other we felt for ourselves how foolish the passing precious Being was! You eagerly, hungryly caressed my lips and laughed like a jingling song in his ears when I could barely breathe in the glowing flame storm of our passions; Love has blinded and beautified us at the same time! The star ray of Mirad was simultaneously scattered and thickened by your True-Pearl eyes!
 
Through the channels of our attractive magnetic telepaths, the Universe hugged and comforted you! Our joyful heart is a beating flower wonder! Why waste so many stateless minutes to find each other ?! - In us, eternal feeling lingers like timeless immortality, timeless immortality! Between two kisses, we need to close our eyes again so that an eternal miracle can last! The bee of our memory seems to subside; why is it that we bite together into the ignorant fruit in the eternal minute ordained for us? And when would we have had a chance to run for it?

SOUL-ARDS



From my eyes there flowed the coagulated eyeballs of honest incredulity; chains of true pearls were lined up under my baggy eyes like clumps of onion-clusters! In feverish, timeless grayness, my rebellious finger-tips ***** ever after instinct-secrets! With my senile self long since pregnant, I have regrown my outcast, my Golgotha-maiden! I think of only one thing: where and how could I have begun anew with my soul-mate another, more substantial, and perhaps wiser life?!


In my being there still ticks the timeless, proud beating of the Universe in ever more agitated, wicked time-bomb beats; in my metaphors still intertwine eternal, immortal compliments of love and all-powerful romances! Outside, paralyzed Minotaurs flock, hoping for mimic-majestic riches, and, looking into the invisibility of their curved mirrors, curiously peer at the compromising world!


The mature soul, thought lost, wanders into prehistoric massive-syrupy solitude to rediscover the palpable depths of Being! Before me and after me, my closed-uncertain future and gaping, personalized mines for my ashes, which have been for some time decaying with the molecules of my cells; my romance, my beauty, crashes into the ******* air-wall of Nothingness and chokes me for the umpteenth time in melancholy! - Like a knife in soft butter, I should sum up the fragments of my memories backwards in my account of what has happened, so that I may move forward more courageously!

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

Moccan in my soul is a hundred thousand years where China says s Juang si. It would be better to put my head down, like ostrich birds permanently. After all, a little creation or creation is already trapped - just so - on halfway. The vapor of a silent stuttering, which is multiplied by the number of stuttering, is panting: how and how to carry on, if a well-ringed, pre-planned plan has passed through, or is it a left-wing ladder of fate?!

The minutes of the pockets have long been sold to the wealthier stroma frenys and money-people, that they only own the possibilities, procurement and tenders only; They themselves are increasingly noticed now that they are increasingly able to mimic the petty joyful dariders of their greedy selfishness.

Perhaps nowadays, silent witnesses, or forced to listen, have been fled, and they wanted to testify, because they could secretly realize that almost nothing could change here, but everything was dilapidated or permanently ruined. - The Peace Promenade is less and less possible to find or find it, as everyone is in the interest of selfish-worsening. Silent cavities are in the depths of the tin can-souls empty ...

There are often arguments and counter -arguments in the volume of the lungs, because they cannot be proven; Things and situations are less and less exhausted, and they do not accept the good friend or the beggar of the bark. Rust scent on garbage waste!

We should learn the Human being again: empathy-tolerance! Pushing into the deepening pits of the wretched while the remnants of the evil that keeps germinating! Every Man is a corpse-One and only lonely star-island, brooding in himself; His bleeding points of Odyssean wounds are bruised and bruised by inner soul-demons at their pleasure! The graceful flutter of black night-butterflies With angel wings sprouting, cherishing Goodness! Into the tiny cups of loyalty-hands Should be placed, as a secret gift of grace, The purple-planet of the throbbing heart: the palpable metamorphoses of Being!

Man may forever submit and surrender to the magically unexpected moments; fluttering shadows fly on the spider-webs of trembling done destinies! The childish curiosity of ripe incompleteness still vibrates in the balmy evening stillness. In every star-gaze, as a reckoning, there stretches a drop of untold glass-bead!

I've played my ever-childish roles often enough: the hissing penguin chubby as well as the orphaned, wailing, whimpering child! And I only wondered when, among all the curiosity-seekers, would Morality and Love ever join hands to shake my hand?! - It would be nice to get out of this troubled, shipwrecked earthly circle once and for all! To learn to believe and trust again!

To feel romantic, breathless sighs like secret X-ray magnets in another's beating heart, when the rose-fingered Dawn greets us daily with her honeyed rays!

Uncertain waters, embezzled prospects besiege my heart attack! It has never happened that even once the Spirit is troubled by a troubled, guarding petal, a soul-destroying or in love gondola-boat!
 
Once upon a time, invisible resonant yarns were tied together with my imaginary soulmate; and now a murderous, otherworldly Silence is barely audible.
 
Deafened with foolish intent In time, who might have a sweet-soaring voice for the first time that can reach me?!
 
Because I would listen with absolute happiness if my dear Angel could voluntarily still trust me and reveal the donuts of the hell-lesson of my wasted childhood before him! I want to instill the sincere truth of true pearls on the forgiving petals of your heart so that our borrowed friendship can grow in confidence! - You know: I can hardly wait until the end of time, because with a thousand nails, the Jackal is already gnawing in there, waging a devastating war against my cells!
 
Tell me, just tell me, please! Now I can still pay attention to you because fear is always used to vigilant patience! Why, then, did we dread in front of the Theater, in a stomach-stricken self-exclusion, whether our hesitant love will dare to take the initiative and introduce itself?!
 
How cowardly was I? Perhaps! But it would have been a good idea to ask you back with selfless help: “Dear Lord! How can I help?" - I hung up my phone ring early; the uplifting cipher speech is exhaustingly exhausted! "And I still can't ***** my age in the dark. Have you read even one of my many letters to you?"

There is a glimmer of embers in the depths of the candlelight eyes: can pille madness remain intoxicating love or a deceived hope?! Those who march in the labyrinth of complex thoughts have a pale flower sign with a yew flower: stigma accents on the stretched bone hands raised to a gesture! Who could have endured more? Did you sin more?! In the fair-feelings of throbbing heartbeats, the memories of rhythm problems and petty problems are already knocking separately! Searching for self-marching opportunities on broken career paths in the waist, in the flash of an arrow, the even more profit builds a cheap card castle tomb!
 
Blood-red, wounded, wolf-blind at dusk, the unworthy Sisyphus, rolling cowardly stones on the expelled forehead of Times, also stops; addressed to him by selfish destiny! As fallen angels, everyone is already intentionally wearing other masks; hides the onion peel of his vulnerable soul! "The ripened vortex of our memories is constantly buzzing with tears!" A **** thrown in pink-petal clouds dances to the sky dancing! It operates as a changing pendulum with a promising, given word of the uttered and then forgotten promise!
 
As a cursed parasite that has settled on our lives as a cursed parasite, we are constantly threatened with Death by Execution of the Executioner! This is why we are consciously afraid of self-procreating love and maybe we are all trembling! "In times of internal burns, external self-digestion, it would have been good to believe that redemptive consolation could catch up in the image of a cherished precious Angel!" We want to scrape together our tired dreams with last-minute salvage pots; a swamp of polluting phlegm and vain arrogance covers free-thinking skulls! Only empathy tolerance could tear ice-hearted people apart!

The superstitious gaze of the Universe will flirt with you if you let it! They dig their flesh into your floating rubber flesh! Every immortal kiss refutes Reality! A rocking cradle stretched over uninterrupted depths swings; including a planned line of stations! Flower petals appear on the palm of your hand as a sure pledge of eternal Loyalty! Shivering squeezes the pulsating heart petals! The Silence walks zigzagging on the edge of the Infinite: the Death Consciousness pulls you deeper and deeper, wings-broken!
 
The power of the Never Happened tears up our years! Even washing weights hang on the liberating Hope and you should learn to trust again! The shadows of the Past haunt you in your cells; your molecules are therefore zigzagging! As the crazy division of cells accelerated, Time accelerated! Today the Truth is still very cheap s the lie is astronomical! "Puddles stick to you like blood-******* mosquitoes!" Zeng is the murderous phlegm of old-fashioned self-incense! Man always believes in vain to cling to this now-counting, starving World, constantly humbling and kneeling!
 
Under the poisonous cages of solariums, hissing chicks are marinated, while their gorilla-brain knights pump themselves up in gyms! No more vigilant ghosts! Time has already challenged everything with its Hangman claws! It’s still harder to conquer on a donkey than with a Ferrari! - And whoever sees the Deficiency and Essence in me one day, I can boldly get to know him! - Care for creative poetry is barely falling! The bubble-inside of Man is soon enough until it finally bursts! Grimace flesh smokes on my face, so he can even grimace

The superstitious gaze of the Universe will flirt with you if you let it! They dig their flesh into your floating rubber flesh! Every immortal kiss refutes Reality! A rocking cradle stretched over uninterrupted depths swings; including a planned line of stations! Flower petals appear on the palm of your hand as a sure pledge of eternal Loyalty! Shivering squeezes the pulsating heart petals! The Silence walks zigzagging on the edge of the Infinite: the Death Consciousness pulls you deeper and deeper, wings-broken!
 
The power of the Never Happened tears up our years! Even washing weights hang on the liberating Hope and you should learn to trust again! The shadows of the Past haunt you in your cells; your molecules are therefore zigzagging! As the crazy division of cells accelerated, Time accelerated! Today the Truth is still very cheap s the lie is astronomical! "Puddles stick to you like blood-******* mosquitoes!" Zeng is the murderous phlegm of old-fashioned self-incense! Man always believes in vain to cling to this now-counting, starving World, constantly humbling and kneeling!
 
Under the poisonous cages of solariums, hissing chicks are marinated, while their gorilla-brain knights pump themselves up in gyms! No more vigilant ghosts! Time has already challenged everything with its Hangman claws! It’s still harder to conquer on a donkey than with a Ferrari! - And whoever sees the Deficiency and Essence in me one day, I can boldly get to know him! - Care for creative poetry is barely falling! The bubble-inside of Man is soon enough until it finally bursts! Grimace flesh smokes on my face, so he can even grimace.

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

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

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

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

I would often take my own destiny; What I once thought could not own, and maybe it can't really be mine anymore. As a hesitant, lame, ***** person, I would just look at how many more ways I have to do to survive they could get along. The man, whom others looked at, spit on, exploited, as if to start slowly, disappear in the retina of staring mirrors, with a bending waist, tormented shoulders, which often carried atlas burdens, instead of others, if not. The squeaky sand grains of existence are their gears - so they often get crazy.

I was just forced to rotate a potted number; Say, do I admit the true, wounded word, which God really hurts, because the dog is not very attentive to patience, through-fear-I would be a mistake to chew on the Hungarian Ugar-pendant, where the average is taboo-til and cannot be.

To the core, my visceral stigma heart only shapes me, shapes me, and with step-by-step tools, I have a hard time squeezing in, raising my head; The pain of disappointments, handshakes, creatures is no longer pilling, but I prefer to be warned, too suspicious and too careful at three steps away.

All of my hesitant moves turn back to me when life is about to me, and while my cumbersome, ship -wrapped days, on the barren, rushes past me, even the deserved happiness, and I can feel a little human.

Like the rootless tree, which is forced to tolerate its harsh fate, the screams of ruthless, ruthless fierce windstorms, and the emerald-green scaly foliage; My drooling, sickly organs whine; Permanent hypertension and hypertension are infected. I've been forced to carry the absolute treasure of the facts for a while!

It was not enough that our spiritual stigma wounds repeatedly opened up after experiencing a more serious tragedy of fate, but it was as if our invisible fate had secretly taken revenge on us, simply by turning against us; how many times is it necessary to pay an eternal, untimely debt?! Money, work, nature may no longer be enough, because souls must and must be devoured here and now, because will and humility have ceased to exist, just like sincere trust.

Like a bottomless pit, one time continuum provides a passage to the other; Anger and fear, as well as nagging anger, nowadays often enter into a pact with each other in the name of harmfulness, because the flavors of intoxicating kisses now have the smell of rotten apples, from the distance of time, an unsolicited whisper slowly trickles down, warning the weak person: wake up to Reality!

Their pathetic self-pity has been deliberately slowed down, its second round will only come when each person learns to value themselves enough to not have to dig their daily well-deserved dinner out of the stinking piles of garbage containers, because there was no other.

The lady also prefers to scrape the pretzel from her fried meat, because it increases the risk of cellulite and then she will no longer be so supermodel-perfect in her fierce bikini. A complicated struggle in the soul is the result of deepening pockets, which everyone keeps to themselves and cannot show to anyone; Even manipulable mistakes will become completely human, as long as there is always at least one person to make sure they understand!

You are always in the way of someone; even though you have been a maze for a long time! True Beads falling from your scratched eyes are not picked up by a handful of human Goodness and Compassion! The disasters of presence in the maze will walk your hidden instincts on your way! You want to find yourself at last while you know you can’t satisfy every wish; and you cannot remain an uninhabited house in your bitter loneliness! "The cover is on you, and fear is staring at you with the ruffles of your coat shadow!" Worn part of this present day, you are still benefiting from the Presence!
 
Are “some” tasting your sensitive self with spike critiques destined for death, or are they just cunningly playing with you? The wise stones of your mind are listening under the weight of your thoughts! Will there be a guiding thread in you that will lead you out of the prison area of your life with will and recovery ?! - You would cling to the Half Time with your teeth and nails; you should not become a memory of yourself!
 
Your heart has been surrounded by the intention of immortal happiness, and the Memory will remain with you as an unpleasant odor; decomposes into parts as utilizing nutrients in Time! There is hardly any left Man who would forgive the hesitation of the fallen on your sad face! It is very difficult to re-learn the art of laughter; it would be bearable to lie that empathy tolerance helps everyone.

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...

Caught on the merciless defiance side of indifferent shadows, in the lap of filth-powdered wind-funnels, what can be identified as defenseless or even defenseless, I wonder what will happen if a person is insidiously mixed up in sterilized gestures and movements with an unflinching, statue-rigid face?!

The life belt of objects that provide intimate security will surely soon let go, while indifferent look-alikes stuck on the surface dictate the latest useless fashion, for trends. Even the unfinished things are not allowed to be properly completed.

Even the most beautiful harmony often becomes like the flapping of a butterfly's wing stuck on a needle. With a transparent umbilical cord cover, it would be nice to be securely attached to Someone even on invisible threads.

Without wings, the dreary days of Time swing in our unconscious self. Man has already become a leech, a parasite, rocking on the shores of Nothingness, lost in purpose: his swaddle is lack, and the even more useless emptiness, which - no matter how much he wants it - doesn't ask!

Unlucky souls, they all slide to the ground on the broken ice of the moment. The insidious creatures of the merciless, hectic hustle and bustle of everyday life could hide behind their contours. Disguised messengers and prophets of bygone times are forced to roam around in the bushes.

At a time of lurking, enticing, riotous danger, legend-dropping darkness, brainwashed idiots dream of just such fairy tales. – In the stillness of the wind, it becomes more and more difficult to break up the hazy night.

Freedom of appearances - you don't even realize - drunk, and later, in your durable disillusionment, is drowned much later into permanent nausea. With stolen time, you may not always be able to treat 100%even so; You move in the orphanage of your closest familiar friends, as if you were no longer there, or just intentionally linked the lines of a pathetic, small -style life.

You think you are compromised with yourself, and that the curved mirrors were telling the truth when they showed a false torso image; Behind your childishly horned-naive face, the waves of decades echo silently, incessantly. At the zebra, the urge to commit suicide is caught; When should you step out of this confused, superficial world so that you wouldn't be able to live here?!

A lost romantic moment -if it had been -could hardly compensate for so many stigma seals; They said that they had not been fired now, only forced the expensive suits in a temporary exile, which you even openly know that it was always a roar.

It would be good to cling to the unbridled scream of seagulls, but feel that you can fly and discover new places from the very, very low, lean severance pay that the powerful directors have been pushed to you. - True, true! Now you are just a ruined debris wall, a tile without a fugue that can fall and break on the ground at any moment.

You know, it is not good for a long -term shortage or the everyday brainwashed indifference; Rather, stay yourself and don't believe in unnecessary rumors that things will change! Do not have a condition in your existence or as if!

You can measure yourself to southern star stars, octopus hairy amoebas - You were created as a human, so use your head consciously and think! The iris of your existence feels back and always returns to its corpse, and because you always know: As a sore tumor, your consciousness grows in you so that you can leave memory traces behind you! Who else can perish with you if you suddenly go and get over there - if at all - what kind of otherworldly **** non-existence ?! "Your orphanage, too — may have become more conscious, in which you cherished the Hailing Hope as the eternal treasure of Hope, and as a hanged Man on a rotting tree branch — even with a confident face on the handshakes of Sensitive Gaze!"
 
You can know that even without you, Being will gradually steal your gift-graces, and yet in your heart there is an unconditional, proud shard of a mysterious smile breathing for you and a small wall of the sorrowful moon! "The Mercenaries have long been alienated from you, who could only take care of themselves!" On your sad, constantly squeezed face, the terrifying Moonlight still fingers with its tentacles, and in the depths of the well-pit of your soul, the dreaded fear still builds its crystal towers! In the cup of your face - if you want to - rosy dawns are hardly blushing and your cherished dreams are popping up! - You feel in your heart, in love, the greedy mole is chewing more and more zealously; deep, crusted Time can only mature slowly! - The curious, exploratory child is hiding in you like a shadow, only to be always open to peoples.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Some desperate, fierce impulse, Some exasperated temper, with many handfuls, Has gathered in us; from fierce hatred A simple word of help is seldom heard! The sound of indigestible preaching is carried abroad by a howling wind! From fire-breathing, roaring throats Peace can seldom spring! A cheap legion of micro-quakes of small lateness goes forth, Even sneaking suspicion-men are cut down! Some secret flame of love should be planted anew in the hearts of men, to blossom again!


High-energy vibration-sounds, soughing at high freckles, in cacophonous alarms, frighten us needlessly! Stubborn dissent is better off as a sneaking thief, searching and searching for only forgotten and non-acute experiences! This degenerate, degenerate civilization is being measured again by the new, profiteering distribution of material wealth! Ladies of ebony body, like enthusiastic, exotic consumer-mediums, dance out of a vegetating, man-wrecked existence; nor should the dignity-laws of the Golgotha-service be violated by outward, parade-like celebrations!


Under beams of eyebrows carved in stone, redeeming love might once have been born at any time, and the superstitious, smiling Deity sought to quench his ardent passions with kisses: from cordial meetings, whoever feared or dreaded ***, might boldly flee! - Wonderful knives of noble steel glide flickeringly sly on the frightened faces of petal-crystal gazes; the wing-cracking of night-butterflies is heard hesitatingly even in the deserted doorway!

Gitty deniers, allied with dacha, do not intentionally step on the Light today! Everyone is crowded and just sneaking in! Here, everyone can be a victim-culprit just for cheap success without relationships you can hardly know! Night Celebrity Owls need diligent prey; illuminated moonlight is nestled in their eyes with ever-breaking envy! For those leaving the career, merry widows are waving! Jealous gossipers hate anyone who still keeps the laws of his chivalry! "I could have been the immortal Universe;" I could have felt the kisses of blood petals as I filled my everyday life with redemptive confidence.
 
Witty, self-bored, jampec-siherers exchange theater tickets and thrive like guests of ****** bachanalias! Being always pushes before man's purposes; project an unavoidable map over the heads of its victims! He laughs at the messenger and the warning prophet! Their nasty taste buds alone honor the omnipotence of Money! The lips of collagenized porcelain dolls fall to pieces from self-sealing adhesives! Where the tabloid media is loud from career-mimicking bazaar monkeys is actually a wilderness at stake too! They show whistling alpha males and fitness kittens with non-stop complex continuity!
 
And he who cannot worthily strike the pedestal standard set up to be an attractive enough *** god or ultra-hot goddess can no longer be worthy enough to prosper worthily among the pitfalls of Life! "I have to be stunned to stare at the lattice lights of bohemian nights as the zigzag knife flashes - maybe you can easily cut my throat!" "Chirping, idiotically smiling leeches, like the tax collectors of an insidious age, make their lives easy on a hanging foot!" Morality and Goodness are found in a state of extinction.

Now just think about that little boy who was sad and anxious to the core, who kept crying, and then there is no need for false words, curvy mirrors, another Janus face, another mask that covers everything. If something binds you, chains you to life, to the world - break, destroy the obstacles that bind your existence with the defiance of a lion and the courage of a swaggering pepper.

If you can no longer be free, because forced happiness, an arranged marriage forces you into rage, even then DON'T GIVE UP! Just think now of the millions of treasures of unbridled memories beating inside you, and then there will be no need for unnecessary words. Then there will be a face from the present, a mask on it, and also a third person who is taking shape, who can now manipulate the explained, convoluted lies at any time.

Then your once innocent, naked face—your soul—will be less visible. Then the brainwashed, deliberately blunted, dumbed-down reality is worth nothing more than a renewed, falsified consciousness based on an already unprofitable formula.

In fact! You don't need them, because flattering words and sweet-sounding promises are completely unnecessary for you. Your vanity is a murderous, narcissistic desire. Everything is embodied in a mirror, ready to show you - your soul, not even like that - can guess or feel the chemically pure truth.

It is enough if you collect a single bright but honest teardrop that lasts until the grave and immediately knock on the door of Someone's heart one by one until you gain admission. "Your troubled past violently pulls you out of your life every day."

Your life - whether you like it or not - is an ominously lurking metaphor, or just a silently resounding rock song, which always needs Someone to fulfill the completed finitude within you!

It still lights up with the dazzling lights of Autumn - why aren’t you with me?
He cuts the woody arms into honey-flavored gold - why did you throw me out? - Gentle branches are replaced by skeletons, indifferent death hooks, and the sudden coming Winter quickly wears away!

Immersed in the captivity of shelter pillows, caring maternal dunes, why don't you comfort me anymore? In the deserted waves in the field, he still hits his head, the mature avar breeds peacefully — as if you were lost chestnuts with your lost eyeballs — where did you get away from me?

Rosehip breaks down its red berries, twilight wounds: Your blushed face is happiest at this time! - Where could you go from me? Morality gets its name on your wall, your proud head shines! At Nagymaros, the silage and the wild Danube are wicked into fragile tenderness, and caressively caresses the blessed eggs of swan soles! - Why didn't you stand by me? Only the broken wounds of your heart should heal, - I understand that - we should have judged one last judgment, and we should gently tell each other as long as we could, until the magical sunset burns twilight roses in your hair!

- You're not by my side yet! Yet now the emotional need is very close to you: In me, a starving child chuckles for babysitting and love like an innocent selfish! When we were even younger, did you think there would come a time when the immortal Universe would also thirst for our unquenchable eyes?

"You can't be by my side at this poisonous, murderous moment," you know.

The petal waves of dawn gently wrap around the Goddess sketch of your budding body. The bronze-brown arch of your fragile dove shoulders, like a bow-string trained at rest, stretches gently first and then balances halfway between the Universe and Immortal Transcendence! Shining brightly like a Star in your petal face, your fiery Gioconda's eyes glow, constantly conveying with faintly hidden secret smiles, "How much I love you!"
 
In the crystal pots of mirrors there shines the truth of your pearls: the essence of your smiling tears! You’re not smashing your precious diamond treasures because you were sad, but because you feel the irreversible future deep in your banging bell-heart! The passing will be able to enter between us in a perilous time and the wind of Death will hiss in our cracking bones!
 
Even on our flaming faces living for each other, tears can be a stigma if our pain is stronger than our giving love! We can still boldly pass on the drumming little piece of our body while dissolving and comforting in each other's redeeming kiss! Clean water wells are our souls! If a bucket can fall into them, we can watch its splashes forever! Our feelings for each other are falling apart!
 
The purple piano of my tongue kisses your navel on your pond, even drunk on a donor! - In realized brilliance and Destruction in each other, although we can decompose into our elements, we can still brave

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?!

Now we have to live more and more in the age of Caliban, where everyone deceives, cheats and robs everyone. The channels of existence close in front of our noses at an early age, while there is no one who does not fall halfway to the afterlife. Man, whether a wanderer or just an exhausted traveler, takes minutely into account the one-time limit points of his predictability, condemned to mortality.

It may be that there is no longer, nor can there be, a chance to definitively explore the innermost spaces of insight, which are hardly visible to the eye, because everywhere the superfluous appearance, the ******, manipulable interest prevails. Conscious self-destructive decay bordered on petty, childish folly; honey-glazed sugary words will soon lead to a lot of boiled bile, which tends to be accompanied by persistent nausea; out there, greedy, pitiful little worms with a penchant for fighting are robbing each other according to rules of the game that can be permanently rewritten, but can also be broken.

Now many petty Darius and Harpagon are counting their cursed treasures in heaps, and no one would ask the average person what troubles he has caused in this no man's land in the countryside?! Even the common man now carries corruption by the hand, like a weight-carrying ***-heaviness, as if deep inside he knows that dreams of luxury in paradise will never come to him. In an age where voluntary submission has become a trendy fashion, the frail man makes deals and breaks them. When locals?!

And they will be and remain the servants-mascots of eternal losers-losers who only dared to fantasize about a simpler, happier life, and have not yet intentionally sold themselves; Nowadays, there are more and more secondary side tracks for people who like to push themselves, where they can stream to their heart's content and pull the profit. In the end, the broken, often humiliated person will be a silent scream at the bottom of a lace bush...

My friend, no matter how many unemployed people now find themselves in the abyss of subsistence, no struggle: He struggles with the enveloping annihilation, which takes everything by relentless methods and spares no one, and how many vulnerable attempts go out of Hope on solid feet - what a merciful : "There are no more places to earn a living today!" "It can be divided by mouth!" - Everything seems to be destroyed and shattered, and even life-sustaining existence is becoming more and more difficult - children can only pay for one or two snacks of sacrifice with tearful pearls, because none of them: S longing back to the idyllic island of peace, escaping back and forth!

My friend, the summer is going to have better days in the saddle of beating soon: everything slumps down - the heating bill is a thing of the past - even tactile words, promises of cheapness bind, scratch, disappear most of the palate

What Man Can Afford: Set aside and squat as much as possible: Make jam in a thick stream from the ash face of peaches, and accumulate as many well-closing useful cans as possible for even harder times: And the very bitter fact remains: also rotting canned residue

precious number gone! It is the hardest to survive the alley-scented hours of the days, so that the Thought has already froze in gelatinized brains, and that the will, the compulsion of the ancient method of wanting to do, has been ground by the hopeless Nothing!

What am I used to? The push back and forth, the onslaught of chaotic sarcasms? Blood sponge geysers from the stained organs? Fist whitish-colored purple-pimples, cam-trenches? The singing of charmingly chirping fairies, flirtatious ladies in my childhood when an immortal emotion arrived in a single superstition, a sigh of magic?

Twilight red blood flames reflected in crystal eyes. At night, my heart cherishes nightmares and, as a strangled prison cell, I even tolerate indifference if I have to! - Is that what I'm used to? The constant dread of little boys that greets you every minute! Is the cherishing of you wasted? As a dilated crater, my broken ****** wounds all hang up, open up!

Your encouragement is needed for my livelihood. I wanted nothing more than to place my perforated heart on your fragile swan hands, and to be able to sit with you at the end of old age and soar on the heights of happiness, like a sky-whining plane flirting with the skirts of cloud continents!

I would have changed my life: for noble, chivalrous, proud purposes, because I found the secret tunnel in the hearts of ladies and listened in whispering sighs to the stray beats of our hearts!


"I wanted to be with me the one who would lay the guardian angel wings on me, if the sizzling fear greeted me again, he would share my sorrows and joys with a cherished maternal understanding!"

A stream of melted chocolate pours richly on your forehead, - brown straw flames encircle your deer gaze. Your gaze is scanning, like paying attention to detail - now you’re searching with killer thoroughness and paying attention. Towards sunlight, you reveal the sincere, courageous radiance of your earthly face: The thorny thistles of rays, the proud sheaves, wrestle with your curls while the melody of your rest trembles in peace on the island of my shoulders,

feed! The dazed afternoon stretches lazily around us, and the unearthly wail-cry of your prayer reaches my mouth, its peaceful supplication, That it may never end - in vain I look, I pay attention, I search the tender, tender vaults of your face, I cannot find the sincere, pure light, the ancient which surrounded

s defined You! He became more suspicious of almost every lover. Hotter than love: Soul-shackling Faithfulness that has bound me to you, and now I am merely blessed with self-mourning in the Universe! "It would have been nice to fall into the intoxication of kisses together: The Universe would have surprised us with the need for completeness - as an inheritance I gave you my mood to protect it with your proud affection," I should have seen it; I was the perfect, foolish - that Heureka's spark didn't flash for me: And anyway

I wanted to hold it in your arms as the last romantic breath of your arms, as it became a hole, you have fallen into the priceless Pearl of Truth, and you have forgotten all too soon! As a Prometheus, my wound ruptures daily because of you: Do not accuse, do not grieve yourself! - Our destiny as a wise judge smooths the crosses of our existence

There's nothing to start with the air drilling! He was an astonished idiot; he stood open and gnashing his teeth in a confetti shower of romantic foolish festive evenings! A tender tire might have liked a chubby, good-natured skull! There could have been no proactive shift for him; he would have settled for a friendly conversation - only the correctness of konok-dac hindered his attempts! Among naughty, curious smiles, it could be harder and harder to stop his hesitant knight's place!
 
Guardian freedom - you know - is still more power! Creative culture has always been a reins in the eyes of highly valued committees! - You weren't looking for a insured loss! Many times it was just that! All rules of the game are precisely-known to either suicides or autists! Public Dangerous Truths are more likely to be fired, while the slouching machine belt holds during its civil battles! Your wolf blindness can remain beneficial to itself on its own to draw courage! In many cases, your station is always: Vulnerable Nobody's Land!
 
The intrusive curiosity of intruders can’t be enough enough when a shoveled husband or a swarming Latin macho lover arrives and begins to interrogate! There could be only one compass left: His humanity! With trembling knees, the dimly stopped in the obscure cover next to the decorative lodge, and his disguise grimace trembled! On your skin taken to the fair, who knows who else will draw luck and fate ?! - You cannot still express your selfish Dissent with a calm heart; Unquenchable dead end for culture! In the depths of his bitten sentences, a boyish muttering echoes still echoes…

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

I no longer care about fashion because of old-fashioned flavours! Rid yourself of your newfound susceptibility to new fashions, who cares only for the telltale signs of appearances! The reconciliation of interests may soon suffer from a difference of tastes! What does the exceptionalist trend mean?! Have we stopped noticing others simply by their dress code, so that we can mix with the sophisticated, elegant elite?

The Acts and the Sacrifices are thus placed together, in a conspiracy, in a pretended stalemate, for fear of what the patrician public would say if many of them showed their teeth! - And if the superficiality of the health-obsessed, all-embracing superficiality is enough to make you very nervous; it might be a problem-solver to try to see the exceptional One among many like him! In the glass of curved mirrors, even difference looks different!

In penultimate glances, can the Good Friends of Faith be recognised?! Gyugyok and Timotheus Tikitakik?! - Already in every respect there lurks silently the cold rejection withheld; a conceited misunderstanding cleaves their heads and may yet keep them in cage-captivity! An imperial rank of impossible dreams, that someday Someone or Something will do without them all! Even now some conscious distrust is spreading among them!

More interesting has become every cheap-fangled sensationalist Celebrity-pilot; peaceful at-home sit-at-home conversations with sticky masses of secrets, instead of messages from sinking airships!

I don't care about fashion anymore because of the odors! Deprive yourself of a new susceptibility to zamtok, who only cares for the telltale signs of externalities! Balancing your interests can also quickly lead to defects in taste! What does the exibitionist trend mean ?! Perhaps we don't even notice others simply because of their dressing habits, so that we can blend in with the sophisticated, elegant elite?

The culprits and the victims are thus put together, in a complicity, into dead-end stalemates, because they fear what the public opinion would say if many of them were to detect the protein in their teeth! - And once a health-minded, superficial-looking superficial, it is very upsetting; it might be a problem to try to see that exceptional One among many like that! The difference in the glass tiles of curved mirrors also looks different!

In the penultimate moments, are the Good Friends of Loyalty recognizable ?! Thugs and Timothy Tikitaki ?! - In all respects, the silent refusal of refuge is hiding silently; cocky misunderstanding shakes their heads and can keep them in cage captivity! The Imperial Ranking of Impossible Daydreams That Everybody Says Somebody or Something! Even now, some conscious mistrust is infecting!

All the cheap sensationalist celebrity pics have become more interesting; the message of sinking airships, instead of sitting at peaceful home conversations with sticky masses of secrets!

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

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

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

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

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

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

Missing the kiss that you often deserve! Just "Knock it off, right now about me" - just a swearing in my eyes that I can only be *******, perfect in love, only "shut up", and the other cheap melodies, even though I wouldn't have heard pus -fraters ’caressing anthems, then ******* fists would not have exploded on my face with their striking judgment!

I just disappeared from the World vulnerable, captured my three-hill ridges, and listened to explain what bumpy rocks, eternal green mosses could say in their million-year-old immorality? "Whatever I wanted, the grace of the Heart just didn't come!" And now it's been almost twenty years since I stepped into the realm of palpable pain! I can't be free in my unfolded mood, in my truncated temper, and now the consciousness of companionship has haunted me!

"The minutes were just fine, on tiptoe." The Desert enters four walls, and the sun threatens to scorch the Sahara killer if it becomes summer. I would hurry after unrepeatable eternal minutes: Yes! When even my mother was balanced and happier, today she is just a hard-working, hard-working woman.

Stomach-turning frost crawled into my throat with his injured ice-blade! My sprouting words have long since been lost: There can be and perhaps cannot be, who can be a crying voice in the night! I am gathering an offensive and squeaky silence, my soundtrack stretches like a ready-to-shoot, stretched bow on guard: My eyes are guarding talkative stars, while you are in tears all at once!

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.

Well, what an impossibility it may have seemed, they said indignantly at the time, the wild flare of the seagull and the hedgehog, its late, sparkling, idyllic romance: petty jealousy, the scandal of searching eyes, situation that I'm already married! You don't care anymore! ” -

The heart would break, and Love gave its handcuffs to rust! He just slapped him up; Your message for Valentine's Day! Gossipy, delicate congregations would not have tolerated the bookworm leech with the earthly goddess anyway! Instead of a discreet face-kiss, the snare fire of slaps snapped on my left cheek - I lost my crumbly faith - it was an irresponsible fad or

just a gamble with sincere emotions? "To this day, he could only listen silently, his pain - if he had, he hid it carefully in front of me!" "And as long as it was expedient and good to be cuddled, to laugh and whistle like a roaring Winter with a stubborn swearing, the World wishing to be annihilated!"

Of course - perhaps - we knew, quite precisely, that Things are about something different here: We have taken responsibility for the protection of one another with the Law of the Heart, and that now there may not be another opportunity - that Everything is for the last time, because it has finally happened!

The relentless forgetfulness of memory, the Judgment that it was a play on the part of the well-played feasibility of immortal transcendence: In a mad snowstorm, I am forced to walk home alone with helpless faith -
while I turn to death, I try to make myself aware and comprehend: Someone else can squeeze your fragile swan hands!