Everything is getting insignificant. As diamonds and treasures, King Darius tosses wastes of ******* into the abyss of doom. Sadly, I look more and more indifferently at how a Man who carries values, carrying a weight-shifting column, ruins himself only from values: You can get cheap discounts from compromising wordings! - Duration of existence - maybe

it is only a secret until one fingers and sees the crowded connections! It's all a crazy problem, and an insatiable will to decide: Should I go to look for a job in a free, bright, and fatten the subsidies of pointless juicers from my lean bread, or

should I trust myself to a foolish Fate, who, like a fasting shipwrecker, will sooner or later put him near the shore? "We can only be silly, hangover figures in the year-round rotation of Being, and the age of shameless plate lickers, cheap John's sole lollipops is coming - it has long since arrived, only Man refused to remember!"

And seventy, cheap consolations, minute human beings snuggle into sudden, erupted careers like rhyming chimpanzees until they could get enough: And he who sat as lazy crickets on his laurels so far is now also dreaming of the juicy gas of finals!

"You, my dear friend, can't even dream of this - letter-formers of your own kind will only be praised by mortal Time with skinny laurel wreaths if they have long been dipped in the useful twigs of their bones."