With a naive, almost smiling, faithful faith, I did not know for a long time that the world was saturated with blood, dirt, filth. Wherever I look, I look like a crowd of human-mass dariders, like so many flat-off worms traveling in flat-off, who would be able to ride each other, if they could do it. The only question is who is better off with the ins and outs of bribe, manipulation, who has enough dare to dream and step forward with a great big ostrich steps?!

I feel like pulling towards the vortex of depths every day, pulling down the many millions of scrambles and petty intrusion of everyday life; Because everyone wants to get ahead of the rank, but in love, just like the superficial, exibimentist words of the pseudo-pads, just as just the ladder, but in love.

This currently disappointing, fat flattening in this current world is a bile mixed with nausea towards my throat, and if I need to, if I need it, only my own sins, pathetic childish clown shots, if they can count on anything.

I deliberately left the company of dogmas that preach, and I deliberately left the moles of ivory towers, but I don't have to listen to so many incomprehensible, folly rice texts about the promises of the uncertain future.

It is not possible to slow down the rarely stolen time to become a holy shelter of instantaneous rich words, just like for minutes; Because it can be delayed for decades, while "some" continue to bury the old-fashioned cannibal time!

It would be good just to have a child-faith, even in a playful time in the Garden of Timelessness, just a little bit to understand a little to understand the absolute references of the Kitin soul. Or maybe it would be better for Robinson's shipwreck to survive forever, who would rather escape the country of dreams because he dreads the wolf trap of reality?!

It would be good to drop every duty jacket once and for all; The thirty-six-hour verb-robot burden, which not only carries a harsh body of the body, carrying lead-in-the-scrubs, but also an office public official is at least as fed up with the small campaigns of constant chopping. The slightly confusing life drive, which has been closed in lines, is extinguished by the misery of everyday life.

The equalized voltage contradictions will wake up, then tense to each other, even under a careless moment or a lost sigh-era: Is it worth it?! Only the next transient time can only be done. - The tree of wisdom, free thoughts, as well as other insignificant so -called. Freedoms no longer grow by themselves, because "some" first sprinkled the land of common sense and intellect with salt and later acidic acids, which made almost everyone at the time of the brain.

It would often be better to have a total disappointment, because then the wise man would no longer be able to trust his mere coincidence to the otherwise uncertain fate or the forces of invisible doom.

The uncertainty that had already been crushed halfway between my teeth, like some deliberately fragmented emergency bird; The prison island of the weekdays is disappointed. Filling clichés are pushed by a perceived-to-deceive sensation, so many hand-catching promises, which, at the time of its conclusion, is blurred into a violent bargaining bargain. The heavy, cumbersome chains of long -term self -references are rusty, but they cannot break.

What matters to the moldy, Avitt scents of the semi-cooked black coffee, which you have to empty to the bottom, if you want to start with a healthier self-esteem. What do the yellowed, exposed pearl-glossy, brilliant smiles, which once flirted with the guardian fires of immortal fulfillment, flirted, and when two hearts could find each other at home.

Now, black herringds are piercing the tissues of the brain first to formulate thoughts and questions incessantly, and then the soul is inner and more spirally received well from their bleeding stigma. Placed, designed goals, ideas - feared - can never take shape and body again, because there is always someone who deliberately hits, or willingly will volunteer their fellow human beings.

Laughing wolf herds also have ironed, expensive well-defined suits to make busy, useful, useful shops, while the simple average only eats the brush between the unfortunate, while the Taracks are not surprised. Because the ghost-shades are tossing hangman on the little men's heads!

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!