Like the winged oak hood, the wounded soul is increasingly closing the petal; which remained faithfully. He could never want anything but believe in ourselves. Delived, if you need to do ready -made will, modest, noble humility, until you can. Perhaps the secret to everything is that it remains a bribe in one place - but it is resistant.

He expects a receipt and hopes for the nirvana-nothing's *******, giving up existence as a careless, twisted minute, and he will not deliberately greet himself if he cannot understand something that has nothing to do with the transparent coordinate system. He understands sooner or later, like the overgrown head, that he was not referenced to himself, in a lonely loneliness because it is so cool or fun-but because he needed the momentary illusion of his calm.

They turn over his head faint, almost invisible decades of decades, which have lost historical ages, or that no one may remember enough; Baja will sooner or later come to everyone.

For even now the bribery-surviving soul is increasingly sinking into itself; Not only the alchemy of the bodies, but also the unceasing spiral passage of the bodies, preserves a vomiting, difficult look. The coast of logical reason should never leave or get rid of it, which is a matter of thinking, because it gives a question of a suspicious question of a falsified age!

The fierce fervor is as if every minute of drawing a lot of tolerant psychology with straight lines; The unmarked play of rope-nerves, whether some amateur, or rope dancing, falls on the face of our rope dancing days, overlooks spider web. It would also be good to redraw the whimsical shadows, while they can be scrambled so that they can not be treated in any way.

Not only can the crowded tyrants be replaced by the crowded, constantly competitive, shaped career desire, but also the betrayed love if he can follow a desire for selfishness and possession. - interrogating handshake, unexpected redemption of the things that have happened in the past as answers,- because the conscious deficiency almost always closes its open soul-doors, because now it is now, as if it were to be filled with *****, bargaining, agony; Sooner or later, human memory and fate-nourished blindfold are all over-the-go, and it will end what it may have been.

Cause and cause of swinging scales, as if they were going on, it would be tense on a single desk until it bounces; The wise man makes himself a sacrifice so that no other miscalculation hurts are caught by otherwise. In the lost haze of stateless roads, even the blind moles and fits are marching without a flashlight; They don't even know where they can go, so far they only smell the nasal smells.

Once we will judge a draft, underworld walks, where Virgil himself will be a guide to our guide; Prepaid suspicion puts a beetle in our ears again and again.

I would often take my own destiny; What I once thought could not own, and maybe it can't really be mine anymore. As a hesitant, lame, ***** person, I would just look at how many more ways I have to do to survive they could get along. The man, whom others looked at, spit on, exploited, as if to start slowly, disappear in the retina of staring mirrors, with a bending waist, tormented shoulders, which often carried atlas burdens, instead of others, if not. The squeaky sand grains of existence are their gears - so they often get crazy.

I was just forced to rotate a potted number; Say, do I admit the true, wounded word, which God really hurts, because the dog is not very attentive to patience, through-fear-I would be a mistake to chew on the Hungarian Ugar-pendant, where the average is taboo-til and cannot be.

To the core, my visceral stigma heart only shapes me, shapes me, and with step-by-step tools, I have a hard time squeezing in, raising my head; The pain of disappointments, handshakes, creatures is no longer pilling, but I prefer to be warned, too suspicious and too careful at three steps away.

All of my hesitant moves turn back to me when life is about to me, and while my cumbersome, ship -wrapped days, on the barren, rushes past me, even the deserved happiness, and I can feel a little human.

Like the rootless tree, which is forced to tolerate its harsh fate, the screams of ruthless, ruthless fierce windstorms, and the emerald-green scaly foliage; My drooling, sickly organs whine; Permanent hypertension and hypertension are infected. I've been forced to carry the absolute treasure of the facts for a while!

Already everywhere, it is self -indulgent, manipulating, stingy, boiled sheep. "Yes, Director! How did the weekend pass? Do you command coffee, tea, sweetener? The professional conference and meeting may not be more deadly boring anymore! " - hears a powerful head in the murmuring heads of the monotony.

Chattering, chicory-sounding collapse, universally, was also overwhelmed by the mass-wreathed masses; Hebrencs priest, promise, rubbing, greedy, lustful salivation, maid-smelling ringworm-pitian pitching no end or length. Wildlife, Celeb media of Hübrist. Because for the most part, you will have a heartbreaking heart at any time, if no one is willing to watch or noticed that more and more things are wrong and ruined in Central and Eastern Europe!

Wandering, afterlife's griefs have moved to our forever guilt -in -law, which do not want to start to start, but even to sew well; stubborn, hard, or scrappy, easy -to -peeling onion?! As if there were no many choices nowadays. For thirty -six hours a day, a free infarction in captivity in the upcoming organization is stabbed, which - usually - no one counts.

Gravitational idyllic dreams are drawing down the long -term and precisely planned harmony and prosperity; In the piano teeth of the piano, the problem is, and while people playing riddles around the loud illusion, the rope nerves that are racing and troubles are being responsible for each other.

Words used words,
Weird that is words,
Words much words,
Where now words.

    Words that starts,
And words which end.
    Words just words,
    And stop pretdend.

Words in hands and hands,
Everywhere.
Hands that blurts,
    And anywhere.

He used words,
She used words,
They took words,
    And world look them.

Word bind word,
Wind that wend,
Worse change words,
Chained that weight.

    Words that started,
And the world which ends.

I try to question myself from a crook, well depths of self-marking, as with the only real crime of crime; that it exists and still wants to prosper. I want to cry for help, just like yelling at my chronic little age, squeezing: _ , dear! Adopt! Be my cherished mother, when all and everyone has been abandoned! "_ - I will soon be disappointed and realize that it is a literal nonsense for anyone to get on the iron gates that are not opened anywhere.

Like the law of the law, like something always moistened, the stigma-stigma-stigma's past, the stifling, strangling fragments of my past; ****** capillaries blink in my drumming heart, as if it were a malfunctioning, hard-to-repair pump that only pumps the life-giving oxygen elixir if they are in despair for a few minutes.

There is nothing cozy among the greasy hungry flowers in Paris derivatives and as much as friendly as possible; Freaky knives to see a cheap, small -style flea circus in the news, the miserable theatrical formula of everyday abandones, and the era of leeches that are dried on the bones.

Why do you have to see that the lovers were also replaced by pink ******* and expensive console angels when it was once a liberation from tons of Sififus weights that one person could look into the other's truthful eyes?!

Can we trust our friends, family members -if they were at all at all?! Don't you want to harvest with this deliberate primacy, the enforced, manipulation situations, petty situations?! "It doesn't matter if the simple average anthil is living or dying!"

In the depths of closure almost immediately, why do we feel that life and death are still impatient on the threshold of existence?! From here, every time of every spiral circle closes early until you are confused about it. We can't even start with a breath of breath, as our daily cumbersome days have become more and more counts, so they can be measured and measured when, where, how much they made a mistake for us.

The roses in the depths of the heart were called twilight, which, if they thought, was deliberately blocked in the coronary tunnels, the molecular networks of free oxygen flows in the coronary arteries. At a bus stop, it is almost palpable not only a manipulative tool for massed psychosis, but a silent infarction that grows as an atomic bomb, calling for almost always late attacks as a diving bell.

The mucus bile in the stomach, as if it were to give birth to kaleidoscopy over and over again, and on mirror pieces, infants should learn to understand once and for all: their lives will never be a romantic fairy tale or a nice foam cake. The wreaths of heart -shaped gingerbread may not have been really crumbs - they were digested by uncertainty that medication or durable food should be purchased.

In the brain -era of nonsensical phrases, one would become more and more desired towards an unparalleled life, as a sweet -sad, childish nostalgia, because he feels and knows -perhaps -he can hardly be a second sans. Now, we are struck as a fish in intentional subordinates as a fish for another forced time!

It would have been good to leave my discomfort - for at least a few hours - to leave, to leak to leak between my circulation; Even with a low watercourse, the pendulum-like wire, which has been slipped on the cooler door, barely took off the brown chocolate pearls of durable, massive faeces. It would be a good thing to quit the self-time at least some days, of which there is quite a few available, and then less and less.

My seemingly confident self-confidence is cut off by an unpleasant or just unfriendly calling, usually by the wild baundry motorists, or the company of the bohemian teenagers who are well-sufficient in public transport asks for a larger room for maneuver, He tells you that you. There is such a livable world out there, etc ... Well, that's a lot of good for me!

Incredible secrecy or intentional inaccessibility, even in twenty -four hours of the day, is no longer ordinary or conventional. - Greasures and worms can feel just as cozy, comfortable in a situation that was forced, as well as the average, when they have fallen asleep, that they are consciously afraid to ask the nature of unknown things because those outside - may be stupid.

Purgery wounds are caused by disintegrated friendly bonds because they are retrieved, depriving them of the ability to heal; There will be perfect unexpectedness to the bagatell nothing if they are not careful and let them lose what could not be created!

The world is now cosmos, Donga's legs are still moving towards the cosmos; Stone, whimsical, silent celestial star in the nests of stratospheres. Other times, in a negative way, he would almost flatten himself back to another galaxy if possible. At the edge of existence itself, there may have been some confusion between the two endpoints of the silence that no one has understood nowadays.

It may be better to flee from sun-busters that look helpless, because they can't even listen to more experienced, wise words that the scientist gave birth to their brains; On wandering serpentine trails, they march over our heads in the way of curling snakes, which have been disgusted, and for decades. The loosened staples of the souls were as if they had long been rusted, as the lubricant oil was also being cut by someone.

The Dariido People are now increasingly stinking from the arrogance of the Hübris-nourished manner, and they smell so daddy in their souls, although they are stretching out of the outside in a branded suit and showing the imagined standard; Tiny shiny rings shine in the heroic lovers, while the night falls back into the darkness of the night.

Uncertain, the world still feels the selfish-mown truth, which he can never prove enough, and his victims have become unprotected by dedicated to the hopes of survival to the hope of a better and noble period. Perhaps the earthly fruits of the universe will also be trapped halfway?!

Beautiful, negative words are now gone, like the chronic blind, and the stars ever brightening are stumbling upon themselves; The Creator Silence -Fearful -can no longer cover it completely, but it will not allow it to be safely hugged after a more difficult weekday. It is as if spiders are weaving the uncertain tomorrow, man often, even a small child, will be in everlasting games, because he cannot trust anyone anymore, perhaps not even keeping his closest acquaintances close to themselves.

The relationships, like manipulation, unveiled acts can still be occupied by an abnormal body, as well as the thinning body built from the cells of instincts. A vain lover is also a wounded heart that makes a loyalty vow, and for some reason, ten years away, a single question, when a final break is made: "Why did we fall in love with each other?! Do you remember yet?! Look into my tearful eyes and say you loved it at a particular universe! "

In the willful sea of ​​determination, emotional storms were raging in groups and could only be very, very difficult to dampen; Thousands of trials can no longer be endured, tolerated by the human soul, which eagerly thirst for empathy-tolerance just like the absolute love.

The clamping compulsion now voluntarily puts a soul into the body, a mind into thoughts; Perhaps once, the human turn, the restless stress-voltage, which occasionally has mood breaks, will be finally overwhelmed, and as nature changes day by day, minute by minute. Many times it would be so welcoming for a heart -born, redeeming smile to give up a reconciled human interior, which is united with itself.