It's day again and again. My heart pounding and straining again, and every moment what existence obscures! The ancestral mercies of mercy are not yet reserved for me! Sometimes a rusty office door squeaks loudly, - the reading of names is heard aloud, in a silence pregnant with ******: the messengers, the philosophical nebulae, the green-eared ones go to execution in order.

The patented buttons of a dressed-up, masquerade suit cracked over me in a cauldron of stifling heat when it came to testifying about the knowledge I had acquired, because one could hardly do anything else! “During the day, glass and crystal palace-shaped tear-***** rolled down like soft and gentle praying screams in the grooves of faces: the immortal vibration of fear artificially aged us to our humiliated moments. It’s as if the secret law of hopelessness on this planet is asking for admission - but no one is afraid to hear it. He was praised by a camp of eminents who knew everything better

licking soles with brighter spirits! - I wanted to know, unravel and recognize the ancestral-One secret: How can the justice of merits really work? With delusions, nail-boggling - surely I have encountered more than the humane speech-charcoal! But only the adolescent revenge of legitimate complaints, of judgments flickered away from me; unworthily and sincerely as it once was

they were called libraries of the brain. The creative intellectual workshops may have closed their proud gates forever!