My body takes the form of a prehistoric man, my tufts of hair are distasteful jungle cave drawing; even deliberately and slowly stumbling, I stumbled into Times as a strange eccentric! I deliberately frown at my worried forehead - as before a far-reaching task - so I can still think calmly! If those who wanted to know me sincerely looked into my eyes, who sinned with tears and whispered with True Pearls: I could watch my reborn sunset within me!
 
Based on pre-designed cat-and-mouse war plans, we have the ability to make a living; who else can listen to my whispered words of help ?! Millions of wet glass ***** are resting in the chubby cracks of my face, and many hopeful smiles often seem lost. "In this present age, it is as if the crow, the jackal, who is digging his eyes, is farming on the same rotten beam!"
 
And this repressed tremor echoes constantly in me, as if my Soul was bursting deep in its tormented excavation somewhere in its little bagatelle cavity somewhere! Now, as always: I try to escape from everyday challenges with rules and the rituals of selfish rites, if I can't count on Someone who will lead by hand with charming redemption! In dim mirrored silence, I am still wasting in front of prohibitive barriers and I would wait my turn until doomsday!