After the conscious push forward - in general - ugly Sisyphusian falls follow. If actions and wills are moved, petty blunders, a person falls one after another, and in each case the struggle to get back on his feet becomes more and more bitter. At any time, a misguided, intentional slip can wash away his cursed limbs, leaving them defenseless.
Even the average person with embryo faith is like a shipwrecked person, cast ashore, hoping that some wasted opportunity will come, in which he could not have had any part for a long time. Only the circulation of blood that scatters echoes can be his own, and therefore uniquely identifiable, everything else is just a tinsel, ***** appearance.
Organic hybrid noises disturb the cosmic harmony that offers fulfillment every second. Silence - fearful -, unable to free itself, therefore becomes angular. Does memory always push you forward or hold you back? A dedicated, sinister assassin waits at the gates of the heart-petals and - perhaps - is only waiting to look for another defenseless, vulnerable trophy.
Time and Timelessness are deliberately being churned out by Being, because great wholes are rarely born one after another. It seems as if man is constantly outgrowing the definitions of his selfish-tyrannical behavior. As if the counter-arguments and evidence for happy satisfaction are being refuted one after another, since they have been voluntarily abandoned for a long time.
Suspicious doubt is increasingly kneading and infecting its innocent victims. Why must the average person already expose himself to the lasting contempt that stigmatizes him?! Those who made frivolous promises and yet nothing happened seem to smell much more dangerous. Will and action are squeezed in the two boundless frontiers. In No Man's Land, Gogol's souls are increasingly crowded together aimlessly and aimlessly.
Dec 12, 2025
Dec 12, 2025 at 2:29 AM UTC
After the conscious push forward - in general - ugly Sisyphusian falls follow. If actions and wills are moved, petty blunders, a person falls one after another, and in each case the struggle to get back on his feet becomes more and more bitter. At any time, a misguided, intentional slip can wash away his cursed limbs, leaving them defenseless.
Even the average person with embryo faith is like a shipwrecked person, cast ashore, hoping that some wasted opportunity will come, in which he could not have had any part for a long time. Only the circulation of blood that scatters echoes can be his own, and therefore uniquely identifiable, everything else is just a tinsel, ***** appearance.
Organic hybrid noises disturb the cosmic harmony that offers fulfillment every second. Silence - fearful -, unable to free itself, therefore becomes angular. Does memory always push you forward or hold you back? A dedicated, sinister assassin waits at the gates of the heart-petals and - perhaps - is only waiting to look for another defenseless, vulnerable trophy.
Time and Timelessness are deliberately being churned out by Being, because great wholes are rarely born one after another. It seems as if man is constantly outgrowing the definitions of his selfish-tyrannical behavior. As if the counter-arguments and evidence for happy satisfaction are being refuted one after another, since they have been voluntarily abandoned for a long time.
Suspicious doubt is increasingly kneading and infecting its innocent victims. Why must the average person already expose himself to the lasting contempt that stigmatizes him?! Those who made frivolous promises and yet nothing happened seem to smell much more dangerous. Will and action are squeezed in the two boundless frontiers. In No Man's Land, Gogol's souls are increasingly crowded together aimlessly and aimlessly.
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