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…

A secret symbol of love or a sacrifice meant for fertility - getting fluffy, thirsting for cool cooling springs. Time is stubbornly dying. And even the loss of petals proclaiming fragility, the proud hope of dawn, scatter its rays more and more humiliatedly, erroneously!

His spiky, unbreakable stem now closes like the sighs of convicts at the last word, his opening, majestic chalice resembling just a shrunken mother! In a room where he had bathed in halo all day, he had enthroned on his sublime lofty throne, someone had placed fresh water in the crystal tube of his vase,

delayed to lasting minutes for the remainder of mortality! I couldn’t take it off the table, its prickly crown secretly prevented our garbage from being a broad-rumened prey: Its existence, already for mere fragments if enough. Fatal transience, like a whimpering culprit, thoughtfully and slowly stripped her dying petals naked! "I examined him, lying on his face in front of me, naked,"

broken, kind, with a princely head like a cursed princess who clung to a secret, and now her moral strain offends her to go among men! In the place of my perforated love, I also examine the swan-touch of fingerprints: Were only we conscious, proud fools that it was common to believe

we deceived ourselves with our will, did we lie? The weather is getting more and more unpleasant: grungy and foggy - and while I turn off my lamp, while with lost faith I still hope that you will look at me with your star-eyes from above.

Even sometimes, during the day, you appear on a diamond column of stars, and in the lily-white courtyard of your swan face, the embers emotions that have died to ashes come to life! A barely visible spike barrier stabs forever haughtily holds the delicate petals of their hearts! Every tear we have ever consoled bleeds slowly and annihilated from our eyes. And a secret signal calls us from our lips!

I would have left long after you, but your oath of allegiance built an impenetrable barrier and imprisoned your independent love for me! I tried the contents of my pessimism more and more - now it would be so good and sublime to be here with me and comfort your charming courage for optimists and sprinkle my perforated soul full of confidence: I can't be Free for you!

Your disarming smile surrounds you and leads you astray — maybe I’m a pathetic, lame prisoner of emotional dead ends myself. The backwater of doubts now surrounds me, I can only avoid my selfish love-selfishness with you. You already know myself: My discouragement does not make anyone happy, even if I open my oak-thick arms with my face, I cannot be your protector, this proud task has long been taken away from me by someone else; my heart trembles and bleeds for you in vain, I cannot deliver you, nor comfort you!

Your blessed chirping voice said goodbye to me forever! Who is not led by a safe path through the path of existence, halfway there is a stumbling block! My loyalty wound for you is still throbbing and burning. The shackles of my pain are all cramping to me.

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…

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!

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…

If we are not careful in this current brainwashed, diluted existence, our peanut-sized brains will be ground into a nut-core mass by the many vile, slanderously otherworldly speeches, the unworthy preaching of exaggerated promises. All the undeserved blows, slaps-showers have already run around the walls of the skulls, because common sense has long ago locked the gates of the temples. The knowledge and certainty that you must live as a wanderer now increasingly batters you, then suspends you.

The infected pus just pours out of the leaking Existence-cracks, like the honey-glazed judgments of false prophets. Where is the courage?! - ask the suspicious, just like the compromised, when it would be good to hold on to the power of a helping friendly hand, or to the gaze of the Kind savior angel, because even so, there are and will be ugly days when people would rather waste away like silent stones in the oozing mass-mud than on the glue-smelling surface, from which - it may very well seem - there is no escape.

Those who can still understand a chain of connections can resist all drifting, - though not for eternity and beyond. The message of cheerful human-charmers at the benevolent words of *******-angels will also be a delusion, an illusion. The holy shackles of truth and honesty must be broken apart by a newly concluded vague contract, by petty manipulative bargaining, so that they cannot function; live and create. A wild din rages among scattered human herds; it breaks the shackles of stoic silences, with which one could still protest, because somewhere deep down one feels: one cannot sell oneself!

Like a trembling bouquet of flames, leaning on the edge
of Nothing trembles at wise,
knowable facts!
I try the cunning plans of my imagined death like desperate suicides!
In my soul, an unspeakable horror and ingrained Fear of Death strains,
and the unrepeatable desire of the Universe cuts into me
like suddenly hooked lightning teeth:
"You should not be destroyed yet!"
- If one is still breathing and counting Being may be eternal!
The monolith remains even as the tale has shaped itself!
  
The essential Infinite spirit energies are in wandering order
and become one with their external influences;
perhaps two opposing effects could still
give birth to the solid essence!
It is always surrounded by the dizziness of Nothing;
there is a harmonious symmetry in it: True s
False as Being s the recurring Deficiency!
- The change shows only the Finite;
live throbbing can sprout from continuous germination!
“I get a sore flame-burning in me and a whitewashed ghost
provides a waterfall if I can still break out in my bitter loneliness!
  
As a purple tongue of flame, everything is enveloped
and filled with envy and evil jealousy; save God to be in me!
I’m more of a squeaky human spark in the expelled darkness!
Among the artificial paradises of Eden in the world,
kittens with artificial liver, glue-smile and gorilla-brain muscle sprouts
abound in coastal ****** while also oiling each other!
The illuminating and eternal lanterns of cultures could
only be invented by the watchmen;
as they get past their meat tunnels,
sooner or later everyone is overwhelmed
by the uncertainty rooted in uncertainty for sure

Something lurks, a strong amber vortex sips and snorts, ******* out our life force; the remainder of our time doomed to mortality. Our shipwrecked days are dwindling at insane supersonic speed. As if it were no longer worth looking for new uninhabited Odysseus shores, where an oasis of peace and tranquility reigns unceasingly. The modern mass-man seems to be deliberately rushing towards his own uncertain Destiny, and does not intend to stop for a moment to ponder.

On the often merciless swing of life, everyone clings to the future in this way, it almost doesn't matter, since mortality was already decided at the moment of birth, so if we consider it unique, unrepeatable and finished. Fate is now certainly insurmountable and it is not really worth making peace with it, - thirst grows greedily and willfully in those who still choose the bare, visceral life. Whether life is a dream or a secret borderline of half-awakeness, Time unfortunately does not heal in the end, at most it can only alleviate the stigma wounds we have suffered.

- It would be nice to have a secret door cut into the wallpaper, where we can safely hide, deliberately selfishly tearing ourselves apart, and no one can ask meaningless questions about why we stayed inside, deep down we are all a little eternal children against absolute, strict adults. Sooner or later, the trace of grief is drawn on faces; let us still experience a pause of rest, even if - often the monotony and the curse of solid indifference flatten us.

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!

Everyone may see through me: Yet where I intended to go, I may never have been able to achieve it, because man's real goals are elusive and unattainable! I already know your world too well, and yet I fight every day, at least not in my perilous image of shadows so frighteningly that he follows everywhere as a faithful servant in the ring of circuit lanterns.

Selfishly and eagerly, baptized enemies would long to find me: The spotted armor of ignorance — now my refuge, though hardly, and in the last degree, would have been the Silence, the silence, the hopeful return to myself as a second mother tongue!

On the street corners - especially in the cauldron of heatwaves - alcoholic prisoners roar, scurrying. I deliberately close my windows against the vengeful invasion of beetles. I didn't crawl useless and pointless back and forth, as the lunar pathologist can't even guess where he was going: the creepy sounds of the nights were greeted as old acquaintances!

Panel walls forced the free-breathing warmth into prison: Perhaps everyone sees me cynically, and since my childhood, Loneliness has committed and followed me as a silent companion. Behind my window, the sublime and proud mountain giants yawn, spread out over green valleys, like crouching stone hearts: They would secretly call me among themselves to make the meaningless and gutted World a place in which we are forced to live deliberately hermits!

You may even have trouble yourself, even if you crawl, unworthy, cherish thoughts that never come together enough; The dear angel scent, which makes you feel at the rose-fingered dawn, or a yellowed photo showing a forgotten wedding wedding in just as cozy shipwrecks as the rings of the trees that count on the constantly difficult collon weights of the past decades.

The unbearable lightness of life is shaking, not only on the broom of superstitious eyelashes, but also in the depths of the eternal childhood soul that we were deliberately did not show to others. With empty glue hands, like a disturbed thief, one gets drunk if he couldn't try enough luck. Grotesque mode is over and over again, and the endless time is finally cried back to missed minutes ...

The pigeon color dawn falls unexpectedly on us if you have to wake up to the still-stingy, coma body; His germination and instincts are even lined, perhaps they would like to wait for their destiny, if you could still watch the Book of Fate for us? The heart clock called the heart, like a pulled, timed bomb, threatens cataclysms at any moment, and it is not to reach the well -deserved retirement years. Cause and cause halfway away this way; It covers objects, petty gaps, cracks of cracks. The troubled mind is gone by the purposeless, meaningless clichés of reality: did it make any sense if you are unable to come out of your small alms paying?!

Even though you are struggling with sinners, the crowded universe is still lurking in your pockets, because you have long been in mind to ask others the big recurring questions: to make a bargain ease, everything else is a lie!

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

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

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

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

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!

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.

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

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

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

Because now, not only the nights or the days are getting heavier and heavier, more pregnant – but the materialization that can be experienced viscerally in the world on the universal colonies of soullessness; the desire to trust, the naive-childish longing for hope – fearful – is no longer reminiscent of the whining child and his complicated adulthood. And yet, the great resistance, as a kind of disenfranchised, usurping rebellion, is only just beginning. Now, the so-called big-time usurers are just now having to sacrifice themselves on the altar of cheap, no-man's-land little paid lies.

If you get a hundred thousand as a gift, at least you'll give it back, even if it's a million and a half at the price of your pitiful head. You can still find a manageable expectation for anything with which the other can be easily influenced, and like a wax figure, you can still be pulled. A throwaway nothingness is left behind, scraped from the depths of a landfill or from the squalid filth of street corners, because – as we know – the afterlife is also increasingly vulnerable, and perhaps more vulnerable.

Every morning start is also a sure and lasting longing for a satisfied escape, that you would have to change even if you have been running away from yourself as a vulnerable shipwrecked Robinson Crusoe your entire life; you have often fallen into greater, more brutal pitfalls, like an angel whose wings were clipped. You could never take to heart the petty, petty life-and-death grip of cats and mice, because you have experienced the horrors of small, cruel amusements on your own skin every day!

I have already laid everything on the bottom of the well; my grumpy, grimacing face can be searched by few! They can't open a whole walnut casing like a secret box with open keys! Mident's stretching-haunting, offensive dark rubbing his fingernails into me and that's why many times balmy nights startle me from frightening waggling wolves! On a severely-silent orphaned dervish scale, I measure my bugs daily as portions of meat and try to correct them! I envelop my spiky hedgehog soul, and I rarely believe words that are tickling!
 
As a slimy snail, I would try the bizarre rules of survival; and I can't really, completely happen like someone who's really alive - just hurt! I am forced to stand for a long time, otherwise little kings will trample the Man in me at any time! No one is buying a serious game today! Disposable, *****-life-destroying ***** have come! Playful demons had already exhausted everyone immediately; in this current home, hand-pulling has been reduced to fashion!
 
Sizzling like silent straw and barely staying in one place; tread, leave traces in endless fields! In a hurry, a thousand people are lurking towards me and infected rudeness is nestled on each of their lips! My desperate dreads often subside and I have no way to break out of demonic spells! "From my selfish pain, my dear could redeem me forever!" And will there still come an era when, in the outstretched hand, the throbbing cups of our hearts will throb for each other?!

… Because even a happy birth is just a tiny, lasting piece of our existence: Race with the Time Part! Countdown for ourselves! Outraged, hard-to-get loves are tricked under the window of my trick drunk! Bloods bloodshed in the captivity of Dawn! The cosmic emotion of Faithfulness creeps into thethe vulnerable Soul cracks ofand bites like a fleeing ghost after the assured Redemption!
 
In the depths of the narrow cells of molecules, only I can be a wrecked shipwreck waiting for his immortal Beloved, preaching complimenting confessions to the shells of chirping ears! Endless pledge of romance! "In the future, perhaps, he will bow down to me for the last time with the kisses of the angelic Goodness and the Universe - I will not have to be humiliated in the hyena of human survival in the murders of survival."
 
But rejoice in your self-forgotten deserved gift — the wishes of tomorrow! "I've never fallen so deep in a dull night!" In a raging storm-turmoil, my roots of existence cling; I should search an endless world for my already missed Beloved! Wounded in torture, the Spirit is asleep, waiting for redemption!
When will the prosperity of my abandoned refuge home come?! Can joy still reach this uninhabited land? I fall-sink daily without a trace; eternal despair can expand in my heart in heart attacks - the Present! - Your Lash-moon when for me her immortal message?

Because wherever you look today, you can see the party ****** of beggar-lived, petty oligarchs, half-God snobs, diva-bachans! Unceasingly suspicious of the sudden coming of flashing fame, glaring flashes gossip-bang! Deafened depths reign in the home of our rainbow retinas under the forehead, as they can only notice the riches of appearances, the advertisers of luxury lifestyle tricks, whose billions of ringing music are just vile change!
 
From the everyday stories of despised mob prophecies, an eccentric miracle beetle is selected by the grinding media machine, and boldly believed to be by the rings of proud lies; a valuable link for human species! The tense of lingering promises can be the word-jokes of lowly jealousy and hatred hidden in preaching voices, appointed innocent! In the lap of the much-suspected Underworlds, a slender, little minute-human blue room is created every day! In snoring vulture-eye cavities, cheerfully stirling-flirting eye-***** are watching! We consciously strive for the increasingly familiar emptiness!
 
Because we are becoming more and more indifferent to each other, which almost hurts in alarm! When we can look at ourselves, we remember and return at the same time! In sly smiles, we raise walls of temper against each other; in everyone doubled Heart beats, they just forget to “some” listen to his word! - Self-propelled shadow also falls into strands of light in intimate harmony - if you experience it! As Siamese twins, they cling to each other many times Past and Present! Maybe we’ve always wanted to be better than our own humiliated, false self-roles yesterday

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

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

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

My faded Sisyphus face! Frame yourself with unshaven shadows! A tangle of tufts of fur tangled with each other, a chaotic mess in Samson! In the detail of cracked silent mirrors, a deserted, extravagant silhouette looks wolfish with itself: a matter-of-fact, earthly copy of itself! The feeling of eclipse surrounds me many times, and not a single point of a pinpoint — it deceives me with the hopes of Prometheus hopes into an ever-increasing uncertainty, my eternally restless spirit!
 
Silent holy hatred sneaks at me on every level! the message of thinning handshakes sneaks into lagging sound noises! The distance on my face between my inner self is getting bigger! He would be freed in the orphaned arms of a prisoner-embracing love trapped in me, and even now he cannot be himself: a child of Peter Pan-complex! The Blonde Time escapes on its own, too; my gaze captivated the bowed scars of my long-vulnerable sadness! Determined perseverance, if not - but it would drive me to do sincere humility, to strive for the good and the people! Behind the scenes, you have to behave in a resilient way and grow up for the tasks provided!
 
My light-thirsty soul was stolen early in the dark! Meter’s Kharüddiszi’s mouth gaping more and more when I face myself with chattering children on my own! "How could the disassembled minutes be reassembled?!" Redeeming Death cannot bring mild or secured dissolution if our inner demons are chasing and haunting us

Leeches and gnats are already spitting ***-licking, hazelnut-brained skulls! Everyone is constantly found easy on the buzzing pharmacy scales and everyone is fleeing from the insured liability! Hardworking mixers can do it - they can hardly catch submissive mice as their voices! Competing with assorted slang passwords, they scold the moles that are churning out of culture! Today, only the maid's ladder can be walked in this pathetic compromise! Voluntarily further annoying spatial relationship; death jumps without stretched net!
 
Jacquud's Dream Life Advance as a Leading Motif: New-Rich Eastern Europeanized, tohonya Way! Persistent gunpowder smell, unnecessary aggression raging around me! My conscious, cowardly cowardice puts me to the test, and because I know: the flames of the intellect are fading in brain-sized brains that are already inherited with eternal obsessions! In a lukewarm, homely environment, webs of intentional forgetfulness can also enter that way! - Invited small-death, gracious killer moments are played by a suicide candidate trying as a dog!
 
Moments into the Darkness of Doom in my dreams! The long-awaited sentinel-strass is always wrong! Anyone can cross the living paths! For there is always a crooked barrier of oblique intent; "You have to prosper at all costs!" - Compliance and step - by - step turbocharged everyone! Every exotically seductive Smile of the Universe, flirtatious gaze, is degraded to a projected sensory disappointment! And they still want to feed a deliberately waiting for a roast pigeon like a well-fed child “some”! I can resist your wish - even out of morality! In green-molded, jerky manners, chivalrous politeness can be in vain

Leeches and gnats are already spitting ***-licking, hazelnut-brained skulls! Everyone is constantly found easy on the buzzing pharmacy scales and everyone is fleeing from the insured liability! Hardworking mixers can do it - they can hardly catch submissive mice as their voices! Competing with assorted slang passwords, they scold the moles that are churning out of culture! Today, only the maid's ladder can be walked in this pathetic compromise! Voluntarily further annoying spatial relationship; death jumps without stretched net!
 
Jacquud's Dream Life Advance as a Leading Motif: New-Rich Eastern Europeanized, tohonya Way! Persistent gunpowder smell, unnecessary aggression raging around me! My conscious, cowardly cowardice puts me to the test, and because I know: the flames of the intellect are fading in brain-sized brains that are already inherited with eternal obsessions! In a lukewarm, homely environment, webs of intentional forgetfulness can also enter that way! - Invited small-death, gracious killer moments are played by a suicide candidate trying as a dog!
 
Moments into the Darkness of Doom in my dreams! The long-awaited sentinel-strass is always wrong! Anyone can cross the living paths! For there is always a crooked barrier of oblique intent; "You have to prosper at all costs!" - Compliance and step - by - step turbocharged everyone! Every exotically seductive Smile of the Universe, flirtatious gaze, is degraded to a projected sensory disappointment! And they still want to feed a deliberately waiting for a roast pigeon like a well-fed child “some”! I can resist your wish - even out of morality! In green-molded, jerky manners, chivalrous politeness can be in vain.

In my wavering, active forehead, I now struggle with grunts; I cultivate a culture of willful, unshakable faith, while the fearful world outside would be crushed by my winged voices. The secret acne of the elements can be heard all the way to the soul's visceral depth. In the superstitious moments of the Universe, only we can be vigilant enough to save ourselves from the hell that is present.

The secret ascetic-arbitrary teaches selfishness. It is the camouflage, forced creation, work to get the most out of it and by all means. My being is dipped in the mirrors of my wounded soul, which both reverse the true sincerity of their faces. The paralyzed, hibernating-evil words burn and curse at the same time - pushing me into the depths of my defenses every day. It is necessary for me to get to know myself better if I want to move forward.

The dream, desperate for fear, always disrupts my attempts after my deep-fried failures. In my heart fluttering like a purple chalice, delirious anger and melancholy, vengeful resistance is deliberately ignited: in every case, unusual, insidious eyelash fluttering reveals that the lady's eyes are fooled. With a clenched soul, I am still vulnerable in the Infinite Time.

And I still hope that my vulnerable heart is thrown to someone on the last day. "Immersed in a squeezed, slippery silence that sticks to me as a balm in a metaphysical, resilient state, I must surely find the redemptive glances of virgins who cherish secrets and loves!"

Like a deepening wound, our still faithful dreams are full of childish nothingness; someone wants a new family house, which - for the sake of variety - has already been installed with central heating and electricity, while another wants a new four-wheel drive SUV, which is a complete extra. A fairy girl with flaxen hair wants to eat fried meat, because even though she is over six years old, she still cannot know what it is, what it tastes like, or what it looks like.

Life is increasingly expandable, but it makes vague concessions and bargains to individual people, which they immediately cling to out of necessity, although they often cannot really understand why they could not move forward on a given social and esteem donkey-ladder.

- A cunning, mischievous, distorted reflection stares into full-length curved mirrors: as if it now wants to deliberately interrogate, to extract something from the person's inner soul, saying: ,,Well, old boy! Let's see! Why are you where you are, or why are you slowly vegetating below the bare minimum, when all our levels can be faked and are so low?!"

- Of course, no one accepts an answer, and perhaps they don't even hope for one, because it's unnecessary, some disgusting, ordinary false-lying tinsel hangs there, tenses in the musty air. They've twisted the slovenly, indifferent disposition - if it even existed - at all. - Perhaps the Present would also seek a human scale, if it still knew what it would be worth trusting in, there would be close, calculated, hesitant lingerings in Time, because now there is the greater lottery of luck to be decided. Fractional sentences of common repayments are torn out on the heads of unnoticed people...

Surely the soul is now seeking refuge; unbelievers harm him, slaps him to pieces, because he is different in everything, even in separation. You cannot sit still, in the tender, forgiving lap of your sweetheart: Outside envy and evil eyes will lurk in your loneliness! The prison net destined for the ground will be strangled around you.

Stubborn, sly hands tearing into each other's hair tear the restless existence of the bulbs of the new life: A man is broken because he is light-hearted, and carelessness trampled on nothing, and now Nothing has become his eternal companion, and he suffers a heartbreaker! - Disgust and helplessness swamp me!

They will defile you too! They lie to you friendly, good-sounding truths, and they stumble upon each other, even the smallest dust-eye brakes! - The soul is now seeking refuge; unbelieving horse binders harm him. He certainly wants satisfaction, harmony and silence so that his life can continue on the bed again with a clean slate. She lets her face be caressed by redeeming female hands for as long as she can!

Only his loved one would still have the shaky conviction in it: His lucky star, who was thought to be wasted, had not sacrificed and let the Universe, which had long since received its desires, fall on its nuclei. "Your sweetheart will send you a wave of smiles, and you will doubtfully and half-heartedly say, 'Everything will be fine!'

"And you look at it with the ancestral sins of uncertainty." Unpredictable ignorance pretty patiently grinds every foot of your sanity! You view your things and changing nature, arranged with eternal immortality, as if you were already a tiny link in the end of the world!

Fragile objects of love shine like licked self-confident smiles in the vortex of doorways! It is no easier than to deceive sincere tears by deceiving them! They are dizzyingly exciting, arriving with uninvited guests in the smile of a V.I.P. party, they don't even notice pathetic hamsters and Alamus hedgehogs! With rainy, big curious eyes, each would voluntarily offer their lily sanctuary if the macho were recommended as a trendy fashion by counting gyms!
 
They sell the virtue of their salvation without a word! With seductive eyelash vibrations, the better-looking party faces are under siege, and the universe experience, which has been declared permanent, cannot be retaliated either! They are constantly haunted and deceived; the easy popping of bra straps echoes in a balmy night! For an indefinite time, subsistence and cheap running will be in vogue!
 
When will the real anthem of the revealed, childish faces be fully visible behind the many serviced make-ups and powder powder?! "When will they wake up from the preserved and insidious self of fame?" The light-hearted faucet Soul is still spacious: it holds business interests and calculating cedar! Who, with his head bowed, can walk in silence, in a burning dirt-red, can only enjoy virtue among men among the Cowards!

"Behind our face, behind our vulnerable foreheads, it is rare to see exotic flower threads!" As a hedgehog, the crunchy, little boy orphanage is easily misunderstood! Out of frightened gazes, the late and long-lasting roar of lightning are all lurking alone! "Can there be another redeeming, pure gaze on the earth, healing spiritual wounds with his petal-heart and selfless giving?!" Today, Pilate and Crédo are just as compatible! A jealous heart can know the superstitious beauties and be a burden in the forest of ****** relationships!

Brought through the large archbishop's forest through the shuttle bus. And I was with you in my mind in the fragmentation of the moments too! The only ground ant camp there was bustling, flirting around you outside on the platform from where nervous and displeased people went about their goals! "We haven't walked together in a long time: Your tender, delicate swan arm."

my darling united in my arms in an alliance, and I thought I could feel and know that your heart still thinks of me! "I am now a prisoner of an impossible and precarious state." I am an obsessed guardian of my conscious mood, which is to call exaggerated happiness an exaggeration, a harmony a lie! They always look out for the stars

for some spiritual consolation! Your sand-melting, and heat-unbearable and fragile reed shoulder shoulders gently lift the heavy weights of your hiking bag with hussar care! Chestnut tents greet with their slight shadows, and again I took a closer look at the deer beauties of your eyes that were incapable of cheap lies.


They brought only happiness and contentment, the beautiful flames of selfless help, rich in themselves - your face toying in a halo light as the tired rays sprayed on you its rich golden treasures of the broken heart: Sight, earth-rooted moment! I don't have anyone to share it with now.

I’m alone, and like bamba boci-eyed, I’m just sad! I must mourn the missed opportunity that you were still standing by me in the ruin of days of distressed days, at the feet of nerve-wracking gaps of consciousness I did not confess to you what we both guessed and knew: The immortal transcendence was matured in you by the unique smile of your being!

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!

Because it can never be like the stagnant stagnant waters of everyday life! Being hanging on iris flowers can hardly resist the insidious traps that set traps! We all stepped into a planned but clumsy crash! You would be set up as a strange puppet operating on the ground, if you could survive what might just be your terrace! The rainbow is set on the trap screen of our fears and it is not possible to know exactly: how far can the border and the end point last as long as we can remain human?!
 
-Numberful, lustful envy among the pores of our nettle skin! The ****** **** of passions is still spasmodically yours, but you already feel it: heart sounds group in troubled noises! Every profitable handshake-Yes, as if shaken in your shame already, that you can’t stay almost to yourself! "This is how you surrender to the dictatorship of bloodthirsty tyrannical careers!" All your pathetic attempts are aimless, vile blunder! Once upon a time, like Lazarus, you can't wait for the rocks to shatter in front of your towers: and you shouldn't consider the unhappy as guilty, but wounded-hearted to be comforted!
 
The fluttering smiles of butterflies bred in dented corners of the mouth are rare, if you can find them: every traitorous gaze stabs another Cain’s gaze into the sincere eyes of others! All trembling, naughty fears are also pain! He who, as a child, will be terrified incompletely in the superficial world of the Living also for disproportionate dreaded nothingness! You can’t pull yourself out of your trampled past that always surrounds me during my time! The deceitful eye hides spawned honeyballs until someone finds a companion…

myself in exile, cowardly stateless, I can rarely be: a complete Stranger to myself! Now I still do it, because Man treats him as despised, as if I were a ****, who caresses voiceless echoes…
 
I have grown up suddenly and you know all whose wounded hearts have been rooted in the known Insecure - everyone doubts! Man grows up suddenly while still an eternal Child in himself, and he discovers that in this World his dreams lie as ruined as card castles! Selfish torment still escapes when he believes promising vows to the Truths, but rather immediately chuckles for new possibilities, trampling on others to step into his vile life! There were a plethora of promised, sounding voices: "We will listen and take care of you too!" "Footprints on shoes that excel in trampling have started to multiply!
 
The True Gemstone rain tossed angrily in my chest! That the tiny, raven-black circles had already gathered around my eyes that cried red; lightning eyes fell on me! The Man-Hope could barely hold on with his watered children's fingers! - Sunny Time has been discarded with light bracelets like clamps! I was even ashamed of the tremor as a suffocated temper from somewhere!
 
And in my head, the creaking gears of apostate thoughts rumbled at the same time; "No one can protect you anymore because you stood on your own two feet - so you started your Computing life!" - Tell me, People? I understand who is responsible? When I tear a millionth of a degree to the point of non-intelligibility?!

How do storm-torn Golgotha wounds regenerate? The handrails of Being no longer forget while the diagonals of rays intersect! The redemptive hope breaks through the gaps in torn heartbeats: it hurries hesitantly like a wounded memory! You should snuggle into a handful of wills, it won't be too late! It would certainly be good to cling to protective handcuffs among our fears of brackish water! As a chased herd, career-breaking vile snakes and skin-excited naked truth can never be proven by childish vulnerability!
 
Silence settles on the stray soul! Unnoticed stealth through the catacombs of the inner self; the romantic moments left on the pillow also leave a mark on our crumpled faces! The witness is waiting to awaken in a common, alienated solitude! - The Universe is buzzing from the islands of instinct depths, while patience is often ashamed of itself, why couldn't it be more persistent and resilient?! We constantly deceive ourselves in our imagined dreams as well!
 
It is becoming obscure, like the faith of selfish love, the honey of early mornings, and the world is becoming more and more excluded! In the midst of silent contemplation, it would be so good to rest: to bow our heads to the arms of the Dear Petal! Radiant happiness, as a pleasant, satiated immortality, would lean towards us kindly; I would call Him back to me from infinite times, and I would not stare at the prodigal Nirvana, who had turned into Nothing, with melancholy orphaned eyes!
 
I was a broken bird wing I always couldn’t be taught to fly, at most just to fall! With the heavy burdens of Reality, I would always squeeze and know: it is up to me to start with my inner security

Perhaps it would be better to finally break our evil-faced, evil-livered mirrors, so that they can finally see with wise hearts that see the soul, and not with eyes that can be deceived; perhaps the somersaults and blunders of the past will once and for all be broken and they will increasingly look towards the future. Today, one can rarely believe: the only blacksmith of blessed, profiteering blind luck is someone other than oneself - stepping on the flower pots of tomorrows, Existence also leaks away unspeakably, while only reason and sober thought rise above instinct molecules. Now, mourning birds, humiliated even in their pride, are wandering in frightened loops and circles; they may have long been accustomed to the storm, breakage, and suffering that the ugly life offers them. Halfway between the ominous and the deadly, the tempted danger escaped between them, the tortured, thirsty pleasure was injected into the love struggle of hearts as a temporary happiness-drunkenness.

Perhaps only from the depths of the soul can the ancient tower of silences, rattling on invisible chains, protest, rebel; a strange, worldly voice that loses its meaning. Like the frozen Eskimos forgotten here above the fragile hole, people also stare into their embezzled future, increasingly deprived of hope. Beyond Being, Time with closed eyes still yawns towards man, opens its Charybdis-mouth, while a death's-head moth flies by the lamplight and brings unwary others to the top...

The trembling body of virtues, already washed away, trampled, falls down, then lies down for good; they slowly sink into forced conditionals. Some unfriendly buildings tower over high-rise office buildings with broken dominance.

I walked there in motionless minutes. Down there, captive to sand dunes, romantic sunset. Helios' proud sunny island smiled only to herself: sparkling and sparkling. And I secretly wanted to scream madly inside my heart into the crispy foams of the waves: Note the Sea that we can stand here in pairs with each other's One-hearts, clasped together like in that characteristic sigh-minute.

We walked hand in hand in a budding universe. Somewhere I wanted to unravel the secret of his sad and bohemian lover, his unknown magic: How can he scout her sand-grained body with the kisses of waves while unspeakable harmony, otherworldly promise rages between them? “Your scorching sweet chestnut eyes revealed top-secret secrets, and you ran across the shore competing. The delicate strands of your amber hair were tangled in the wind!

Did I soar? Did I imagine? Or am I just disappointed? Or I could only have been a passer-by of immortal accomplishments that you, if you can be with you, sink into self-forgetful dreams of self-forgetfulness: knowing that you are drowning in Eden kisses. And I swore! Always calling on the Truth to you: Unconscious magnetic pole energies attracted, demanded, called you, and you could be greedy and insatiable in the only Heureka minute that demanded the immortality of Existence…

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!

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

An invisible tremor inoculated unnoticed into the nodes; it ***** up invisibly at once, surrounds, and does not let go of its unsuspecting victims with its octopus tentacles. The truth is known in the order of the World: No one can be innocent enough, because - as is well known - not only the wild will to live began with birth, but perhaps also the realization that we are dependent on ourselves. A spiral chain of unnoticed infectious diseases inoculated into the visceral certainty of the bones, which can also be caused by age-related changes.

Lack swirls like a vortex, because it has secretly stretched itself onto the polar surfaces of the skin; it would not be necessary for the fierce and fierce vicissitudes of everyday life to drag its shipwrecked people along unnoticed, to speak - often - because there is no one to do so. The petty axioms of hissing denials are organically enclosed within oneself, because one still believes that it is somewhat better to cope in finite solitude.

We dream of a single touch throughout a lifetime, which we could not receive in a million and one forms enough, neither from our mother nor from our beloved, it would perhaps have been better to cling to the manipulable promises of friendly handshakes, if we could have wanted something to finally happen. In the tunnels of the blood vessels, in airtight oxygen capsules, instincts and desires also travel in order, as in public transport.

Most people would now prefer clear clarity, common sense for themselves, not the preaching of false slogans that almost never get us anywhere. - The cheap appearance of lazy indifference should be eliminated sooner or later, because we have had enough of the offerings of puddles.

Walking our treacherous, money-all path, we have become ruthlessly greedy Breakers; Orphans, left alone, flare up in the night like the richer, richer stars! We know! We must not sell ourselves - nor sell them - and yet in the temptations of trials we fall bribed every day! Can our followers learn from our Fallen Being? If nothing else; how can we be non-compromising!
 
This present-man-long-time benefit-Present Interests-Babel cannot provide a shelter! Day by day, we live as if we are always waiting for unattainable Promises, enticing opportunities: a shattering, sharp shard shatters us every minute! When we give up our dreams, Kid is forced to cry in our souls!
 
Sustainable Life builds itself from more diabolical circles than card games: Each day sacrifices new figures for self-justification on stage, while the camp of the severely depleted prefers to give up the Competition because you can’t trust the legitimacy of affordable Judgments! "Every single moment has a primordial meaning, and many times the fallen Man doesn't even think, 'What if?' - the consequences of your decisions!
 
Sadness woven from moonlight illuminates every desperate larva's face. The tangible admonitions of Being are now the fears of garbage dumps! Through soul-movies, we can see the deepening calvary of our long-successful minutes fluttering.

All curiosity searching from the twinkling starlight lurks at you, motoz! Our bud-creating presence dialogue is not just about secret gazes! The exhilarating Moon has long since sent up its courting little stars! Wounded, selfish hearts should be universally attuned to the Ray of Love! In a startled soul, a freezing pain grips the heart; possible formula for tomorrow! - The blink Light has abandoned The ray of light for comets has long since moved and your inner unspeakable treasure world is poisoned by the presence of fools!
 
You cannot escape the romance wing of desires; a new world should be put together from the inside! From within, your watch is consumed by vigilance as the power of the guards! Inheritance is immortal, your sweetheart chirps in a mischievous smile and yet you cannot be completely satisfied, because as an Odysseus you always want more! All the gutters in the Universe are already loose! And fearful envy sharpens revenge in the eyes of a volcano! A roaring, self-pity waterfall rushes from my crater eyes and sifts rainbow glass *****!
 
I feel the Calvary of cut-off careers at every moment; among the sneaky, pathetic spits, the secret of Tomorrow is frightened as a distorted riddle; thirsty spirit where could you find a drop of water in the Nirvana desert! The possibility of self-redemption was missed every time! - Dissect yourself alive, feel everything and take it upon yourself! Donor heartfelt will be his early death! "Can I find volatile serenity in everyday life?" I should learn to float in the heights of Hope.

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!

If they giggle for a long time, have fun, I quit Life without charge! They are beating flowering nails into my Heart of Calvary, which is constantly dropping petals! Toxic strands grow under my damaged skin; jackals are also matching killer laughter destroying my inherited cells! An understanding conversation depends on the nature of the day; i stop in one place like a chubby celestial body! The hardness of the Spirit goes hand in hand with the garbage roasting that is rooted in the World!
 
Cause and effect breaks the connections of the intellect into parts; and the prophets who have negotiated with themselves can scarcely shout, "How have we come this far?" - The lowly pains of bullet-hit wounds cannot be reconciled; between the avant-garde liturgy, the Human Man should learn to think again! There can be no more stakes in self-deception! Claustrophobic blood clots are pathogens on the plateau of my brain, like a million-year-old solid plaster! Between dams and ramparts, like a grundy little child, I wake up alarmed to the Real!
 
The question of “how to proceed?” Is in doubt and threatens suicide! The scam of Life immediately awakens; nausea avoids the bulk seances of many obscene curses! Murderous careers are pushing each other and they will soon be trampled on early! They looked like friends, loyal Strangers holding out their hands! - The scary vase of Life, which faces daily, has survived; stigma-beard grows on my face with the non-negotiable Hermit!
 
The organs allow an infarction-barrier ban in front of the mouth of bumps! - Fumigable critiques s and repeated Executioners of Executioner trophies! Is there still a way out of the tunnel to hell, or is it just me imagining?

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I see as an accomplice, have you ever been able to listen? you thought to yourself overwhelmingly, proudly, “What can this worthless willow cub want? Even that immortal kisses and the nectars of idyllic laurels? What nonsense is that again ?! ” "I didn't dare take my lips to magical, complimenting words," he was afraid I knew, I'd scare you for good!

The bewitched Moment of Fate gifted me, and then he was suddenly captivated, he took me far: Maybe if we became the cuddly grandmothers and grandfathers of the School of Life, we might still run into each other in the great abundance! "I couldn't even say one last word to you: And now it's not just the usual 'how am I?' - bagatell's question rides in my head, why did I collect misguided minutes, idyllic gazes

shreds? I already know: The determined will boasted in me that would have handed out trust graciously! I haven’t changed almost anything: I’m still just shaving every four days to save some on my costs!

Even within me, I am still speechless carrying the Burden that I once suffered your damage! My partner is not even now - hoping, hoping in the endings. Remember, we once had a princely feast of chocolate cavalcades, and we could forget each other selflessly; cheer boldly and flirtatiously so we can lick!

Your tears shed a pound of amber on my weak-willed heart. And he became one fate with you, but you ran out of self-sacrifice that also took omen! "I don't know yet: Did you betray me, or did you just run away forever ?!"

If I were to gather my courage I would gladly be comforted among the rose petals of my lips; the cherished Universe, as a kind, caring Mother, would extend her sacrificial arms for me and comfort her with her kisses! Our wonderful words would wander into our eyes in the tunnels of secret telepathies; phenomenally laughing stars! "I know I'm still strangely ridiculous today, and yet the eccentric inertia of men in love as men in love;" I would protect myself from self-damaging disappointments and yet cling to the tropical atmosphere of love tendrils!
 
In the selfish depths of my childish soul, patience is wasting patience! Thinned hugs revolve around Procrustean beds, like notched knives! Disturbed innermost compulsion is chasing me to confess with open mouths of surprise to many who thought they were not even known! "Pebbles of stars stared into the black water of my eyes!" - Silence will be a white spot! In my weeded life, I match myself; the transient Time stretches itself to the bone wings of heaven as a victim! Every kiss will show golden figs, I just haven't noticed so far?
 
As the rootless flower, the moon is in the water of the sky! The dream stumbles at the moment of imaginary surprise plans, and blinded rainbows run at the crossroads! Toothless traps make this ******* Laugh laugh! - Crushed silence anesthetized for a long time, even the Humpback of Humanity! Under the stepping, half-silver shadow of the Moon surrounds the unbearable visions of the Future of Nineveh.

If I were to gather my courage I would gladly be comforted among the rose petals of my lips; the cherished Universe, as a kind, caring Mother, would extend her sacrificial arms for me and comfort her with her kisses! Our wonderful words would wander into our eyes in the tunnels of secret telepathies; phenomenally laughing stars!

"I know I'm still strangely ridiculous today, and yet the eccentric inertia of men in love as men in love;" I would protect myself from self-damaging disappointments and yet cling to the tropical atmosphere of love tendrils!
 
In the selfish depths of my childish soul, patience is wasting patience! Thinned hugs revolve around Procrustean beds, like notched knives! Disturbed innermost compulsion is chasing me to confess with open mouths of surprise to many who thought they were not even known!

"Pebbles of stars stared into the black water of my eyes!" - Silence will be a white spot! In my weeded life, I match myself; the transient Time stretches itself to the bone wings of heaven as a victim! Every kiss will show golden figs, I just haven't noticed so far?
 
As the rootless flower, the moon is in the water of the sky! The dream stumbles at the moment of imaginary surprise plans, and blinded rainbows run at the crossroads! Toothless traps make this ******* Laugh laugh! - Crushed silence anesthetized for a long time, even the Humpback of Humanity! Under the stepping, half-silver shadow of the Moon surrounds the unbearable visions of the Future of Nineveh.

Are modern, human-made transformers dominating the swampy, algae tabloid media and the fact that such a cultural show is for the masses of brainwashed mortals ?! The restored mass-man has once again claimed the right to himself to wean his happier few. To hear the rhythmic clatter of desire telegraphs for a long time: "Money, profit here! Do you hear? Whoever is already a prisoner can rarely be out there! ”

The accomplished, ugly time on the engravings of the engraved faces of unrecognizable stigma; In the midst of the moonworms of the moonworms, unsuspecting mothers give birth to their hopes for a better life. If an echoing cave could be a melancholy heart, it could reveal many secrets. With the cheap promises of our handshakes, everyone is trying to lay it out at the table for the honeymooners themselves.

Many of them are already smelling the rotting, spotty afterlife cover of their camouflage. Who got lost in the mud to this world of dragons being forced to get along or even cry for himself! Our destiny: a busted, bustling leaf on an open engraving. - Everyone walks into conscious oblivion; sooner or later the memory will whirl up.

Inward, shaky, dazzling comet-light cuts through from one soul-stop to another, because it knows and feels the same curvature. Her fame and deliberate exhibitionist indifference infect her and produce yet another chaotic theory. Even very few can be admitted to our inner onion shells!

Even an island where Time has stopped, and your eloquent gaze or even a scalpel penetrates my kidney. Your mischievous smile plays in the red glow of your face and hesitates with me! In my vulnerable heart, the refined strands of the years have struck an aggressive homestead, and only your delicate, nurturing hand can heal it! I would put my haunted head in your arms: Can the desires of human evildoers ever be fulfilled on a daily basis?

How could our two heartbeats be connected on secret entrapped biological pathways, say? And can’t the half-nailed, uplifting will hide nothing more than the fact that we both became cowards at the decisive moment?


I knew the nice little flirting ended sooner than we had previously thought. Our abandoned, hesitant confession ended sooner than a sudden, hurried breath, before the sure drowning! Did you really think so? You wanted this? Please answer! No coercion! Why did the immortality felt at all times seem annoyingly ending?

We were as cruel and submissive to each other's selfless and foolish noble emotions as two ruthless despots who alone considered the Question: "Do you still love me?" Or could I just have been a disposable, cheap item of use while bouncing back and forth as a palace clamp for you ?!

I know it’s very annoying, annoying, but calm down for a single minute! You would torment the exploitable moment to the point of uncertainty - now watch in silence: Listen to the beats of your heart and just listen to them - this is the hardest and most painful! "Envy and jealousy as a mysterious trustworthy can never lead because of a bad omen!" To the voices of my compliments somewhere in the distance, secretly now you are still trembling, answering!